Loose Ends
by ArmageddonClan
Summary: Post-Stench of Purexo FF Part 2. As the MSA (Majestic Security Agency) investigations finally begin to produce results, the repercussions of their missions possibly catch up with the Agents and those close to them. To what lengths are they willing to go to ensure their survival?
1. Chapter 1 - Heart of Steel

Too much inspiration to not do this! Follows "A Meeting of Heroes." Compared to that, became longer and somewhat more serious / darker in tone. Naming each chapter after a (metal) song became an essential part of the writing process and helped to define the atmosphere in each, though sometimes trying to choose just the right song stalled the writing severely!

Thanks to:

\- AgentUrsa for the Agents of Metal category, original inspiration and being an FF writing buddy!

\- The two who I overheard discussing very passionately a certain type of character, and the idea got copied in here!

\- Manowar, Iron Savior, Avantasia, Judas Priest, Nargaroth, Burzum, Battle Beast, Bruce Dickinson, Sabaton, Metallica, Hammerfall, Gamma Ray, Iron Maiden, Reverend Bizarre (+ Ghost for the alternative song for ch. 31) and DragonForce for the chapter title songs!

Enjoy!

-ArmageddonClan

...

 **Chapter 1 – Heart of Steel  
**

Kim heard the rumble of the motorcycle engine as it started. It was odd how things had to repeat in life. Of course Erik had to have a motorcycle too, like Viktor before.

She could have been riding it as well. To some unknown but possibly satisfying destination. But no. Her insecurity and misanthropy had been in the way.

Lately she had had this paranoia that she was being compared unfavourably, that unfair expectations were being placed on her. From this thought she always flashed back to the trip from the cargo train yard, to the short stay at a cheap inn, which they had used to get their bearings after the immediate aftermath of the soul infection incident.

Her mind probably exaggerated it, but what she most remembered was the redhead, Jo, resting against the guy – who Kim remembered as the programmer, though he actually wasn't – looking far too happy and content and in love. These were supposed to be hardened ex-Agents like Erik, but apparently looks could be extremely deceiving. The paranoia was that Kim was expected to become the same, though she never could.

And the worst part was, that this was all in her mind. If Kim actually thought of how Erik behaved, there was little factual evidence to actually support these fears. Rather, Erik was just as stoic and silent as ever, and in actuality was fine with Kim being just the way she was. But the mind made it real. Kim assumed that whether real or imagined, the paranoia was eventually going to sour whatever was between them, and to prevent damage she purposefully acted as blank as possible, and mostly refused to give any sort of affirmation beyond the physical. Erik was patient, but his patience couldn't be infinite.

The sound of the engine lowered, as the clutch disengaged and the wheels started to roll, then the sound began to fade away.

Kim looked at her reflection in the mirror of her small and primitive flat. She thought to have aged visibly by the incident. It was no surprise, really. If she remembered right, she had been killed, her soul removed and digitally purified. After coming back to life, she had activated a reactor acting as a teleport, which had transported her and the Renditioner (housing both Erik's and Viktor's souls) into another dimension. Then, after events she couldn't clearly remember, but which possibly involved combat, she had returned.

From the fragmented memories, comparing notes with Erik, and most importantly because the unnatural events had stopped, they had to have succeeded in whatever they had done. So like the two who liked to cuddle far too much, they had to be heroes. But Kim couldn't bring herself to enjoy the victory.

On the positive side, Kim thought that this was not yet the point of no return. Just another wasted chance. There was going to be another, if she just got over herself.

She looked at the bass guitar standing in the corner of the room. Right now it represented everything that was disgusting and wrong with the world, and she did not want to touch it, though it was still early evening and playing it would not have brought complaints from the neighbors. Rather, she was probably going to go for a masochist-level run to empty her mind completely.

...

The camouflaged all-terrain vehicles advanced through the forest at almost dead slow speed. The target would soon be in visual range. It had taken months of following obscure leads to discover its location, but at last it had been confirmed. According to the intel, there would not be any sophisticated countermeasures or detection mechanisms; it was just as any low-level survivalists' and gun nuts' compound. But the task force wasn't taking any chances; their own scanners were running at full power, scanning the whole EM frequency spectrum for any abnormalities, in addition to radars and radiation detectors.

In case the occupants would be alerted, and managed to activate the craft and use its weapons, the situation could turn to bad quickly, though. Each of the vehicles had been fitted with a powerful electromagnetic pulse device that should be able to render it inactive, but that was just according to theory from the Air Force technicians. Of course launching the EMP would disable everything electronic within the radius, but they still had their men and conventional weapons.

The options for this raid had been considered carefully. A direct insertion by helicopter would have been possible, but the noise would have certainly alerted those inside. Soon, it was time to exit the vehicles and proceed the rest of the way by foot.

In ultimate charge of this operation was the MSA – Majestic Security Agency. It started where other agencies stopped, handling extraterrestrial and dimensional threats, and the recovery of evidence related to those.

Its special agent Sebastian Hall, medium built and with dark hair just over the length of the agency's standards (tolerated because of his performance) sat in the second vehicle, wearing a headset and eyes fixed on the military-grade laptop from which he could see a real-time display of the mission zone.

The last couple of nights leading to the operation had allowed little sleep; Sebastian knew he was practically running on coffee and adrenaline.

Hopefully, soon it would be all over. He wasn't in charge of the actual military side of the operation though – for that there was Major Gunther Jäger. He was a bull of a man, nearly two metres tall, and Sebastian did not exactly feel comfortable around him.

MSA had lately failed – by acting too little and too late – in two major incidents, which had not done good to its reputation. In fact, its whole necessity was being questioned, or the possibility of there being moles or traitors inside it. Both incidents had appeared to resolve themselves, but there had been unknown actors in play. The most visible clue was the unauthorized sky broadcast in December 2012, proclaiming the "Agents" victory over "SCEPTRE", but this could have been misdirection. At that point the issues at hand had not been deemed MSA's territory, so they had a late start. And so at least six months had been wasted after requesting the necessary information from the other three-letter agencies.

Sebastian had prided himself on always doing the best he could during the eight years he had served inside the organization. He wasn't aware of any corruption. But it was possible he had not looked hard enough.

He knew those inside the compound would not suffer a pleasant fate. It would be better for them - of course worse for the operation - to in fact die in the raid. The use of enhanced methods of the highest degree would be a given, to discover the identities of anyone else involved in the theft of the craft, and to determine if it was in any way related to the incidents. A complete success in this regard was the least MSA could do to repair its stature. To tie any loose ends.

...

 _Four hours earlier_

As the evening skies grew darker, only the chill of the wind, the endless road stretching before him, and the rumble of the powerful engine beneath brought comfort to Erik.

He cursed himself, for getting too much ahead of things in his mind. He thought to have been patient, but apparently he was still pushing too much. For instance, suggesting the duo doom metal project had not gone over well.

Fuck. Erik just could not understand.

On a whim, he decided to head to the place he had not visited in months. The forest compound. If nothing had changed, Torzu and Gorehound from the disbanded Shadow Unit still lived there. Those he could always rely on, and commiserate with.

It was also a chance to see the well-concealed Identified Alien Craft again, though he probably wasn't going to fly it anymore.


	2. Chapter 2 - Condition Red

**Chapter 2 – Condition Red**

Gunther Jäger made a few economic hand signs, and the teams began to advance, drawing an ever tightening net around the forest compound.

Several men stayed also behind in the ATV's, ready to deploy the EMP if required. There was a display in Gunther's helmet visor that allowed him the same overall tactical view as the laptops and screens in the vehicles. Gunther was pleased that the MSA agent had also stayed behind, and understood only to be observing during the execution, while Gunther and his team leaders were in actual charge.

The only thing disturbing Gunther's mind had been the third incident a few years back, which MSA also had failed to intercept properly. That was where his distrust for the agency initially stemmed from. This earlier incident, also of a dimensional nature, had involved his brother Rutger, who had taken up private security instead of remaining with the Special Forces. With his bad luck, he had chosen Purexo as his employer, and perished during the incident, despite his team of highest-calibre hardened professionals.

So it was a toss: did Gunther now blame MSA, Purexo, or his brother's poor judgement? He honestly did not want it to be the last option.

Focus! Gunther commanded himself. He could return to the subject after the operation, but not sooner.

...

The ex-Shadow Unit Agent known as Gorehound woke up in his spartan bed within the compound's basement. It was safest there. Now something told him that things were off. It wasn't sound ... or vibration. Not anything like that. Maybe some kind of sixth sense, or then the nightly bird sounds or something minor being slightly different.

He lumbered over to Torzu's bed and shook him not-so-gently.

"I've got a bad feeling," he said sharply as Torzu showed the first signs of waking up.

Following that, Torzu was fully awake in almost no time. "Visitors? Time to fire up the IAC?"

"Nothing that I can confirm. But it doesn't hurt. Better a false alarm, than being unprepared."

Roughly one minute, and the men had their combat boots and gear on, and loaded M4 carbines in their hands. They crossed the basement until they reached the stairwell, and finally the second floor of the large central building. It had been mostly emptied to make room for the craft. The IAC was buried under some heavy tarps, but there was a simple but efficient motorized mechanism which would lift them off, as well as simultaneously open the roof. The Agent with the codename Goat (though Gorehound knew also his real name Erik) had helped them build it.

The electric motors were powered by heavy batteries, and a portable diesel generator was available as backup. Nothing would have burned as bad as not being able to get the craft unburied during a surprise attack.

They did not need to switch on the lights. Gorehound knew by heart where it was and went direct for the mechanism's main switch.

The motors began to whir, and the tarps began to lift. Ten seconds later the sleek black shape of the alien craft was already revealing, and some light flooded in from the opening. Of course, if a helicopter would now have been hovering directly above, this would have made the men supremely vulnerable. After all, there were only two of them, and M4's did not do much good against armor.

Torzu reached for the control headband from a small closet on the wall (which he knew by heart), concentrated for a moment, and a slight hum began as the craft lit up with dim blue lights around its base. One of the doors slid open almost soundlessly, and the men entered the alien equivalent of a cockpit.

Gorehound thought that they were safe for the time being. The craft had various sensors and monitor screens, though their operation was somewhat foreign. But by trial and error they had discovered enough of them, and Torzu knew what to think to get an overview of their surroundings, even before they would lift up. With the right thoughts, this display could be panned and zoomed.

"Fucking hell," he swore. Apparently reacting to the aggressive and erratic thoughts, the display blinked off for a split second, then returned.

There were shapes approaching through the woods. Zooming in showed they were armed.

This was about to become war.

Gorehound also knew the roof should be fully open by now, so they could lift off any time they wanted.

"Get us up," he said to Torzu. "And prepare the weapons!"

Torzu concentrated, and the hum intensified, until the craft began to float in the air first. Then it shot up with such acceleration that the men should have passed out by all laws of logic, but it had a G-force counteracting mechanism beyond their understanding. That it worked, was enough.

...

The comms suddenly blared to life with frantic shouts. Gunther cursed the lacking discipline; had to be the junior operators.

"It's lifting up!" was one of the rare coherent voices.

Gunther looked ahead of him to the large building, just in time to see the shape levitating above, before it shot off in an abrupt lateral motion.

There was only one thing to do. Otherwise Gunther could be sentencing several of his men to death unnecessarily.

"Hit the EMP!" he shouted. "I repeat, EMP now!"

Only a split-second later he realized that the falling craft would crash-land uncontrollably and could still maim or kill any of them.

"Take cover!"

There was a sensation of his hairs standing up, a burst of white noise in his earpiece, and then his visor display went black and all voice activity ceased. He swept the display to the side to be able to see with his own eyes. He searched the sky intently, until he focused on the falling craft. Thankfully it was already away at least from the main group.

...

Inside the craft, Gorehound and Torzu tumbled just as helplessly as the craft itself. Propulsion was disabled, as was the G-force countering device.

They could only wait for the inevitable impact. It should not have ended up like this. How could the craft not survive a simple EMP? It should have been superior alien technology.

...

The ground shook as a yellow-hot fireball lit up the darkness of the forest for almost half a mile.

By all accounts, the craft they had come to recover was destroyed. Disappointment coursed through him; Gunther was not sure what kind of evidence would be available to collect after this. Probably not much. Twisted metal and mangled, blackened corpses.

Still, the danger was far from over. There could still be more enemies inside the complex. It had to be cleared out old-school.

...

When the lights inside Sebastian's ATV went all out, including the military-grade laptop's screen, he knew the EMP had deployed successfully. A few seconds later, the huge rumble of the explosion sounded. To him, it told that recovering any valid evidence, or interrogating the occupants was likely going to be a no-go. So many months of work, culminating in this?

He swore heavily.

The only hope was possibly now in some minor evidence, like cell phones or hard drives that had not been fried completely.

Well, to think positively, a functional alien craft was no longer at the large. The parts could be hauled away, the compound closed for good, and hopefully most of the local people would be none the wiser.

...

Erik was just about to turn his Harley on the smaller forest road leading up to the compound, when he saw the flash of light ahead, and heard the rumble.

Coldness and blackness entered his thoughts.

It had to have been the IAC exploding. The Shadow Unit did not have any significant explosives inside, they had been transported elsewhere.

This meant with almost full certainty an assault by a government force.

He did not see what he could do for his comrades at this point. They were dead, very likely, or if not, then caught for interrogation. Since above-top-secret material was in question, Erik certainly equated that with torture in the maximum degree.

The only sensible thing was to get away, as undetected as possible.


	3. Chapter 3 - The Scarecrow

**Chapter 3 – The Scarecrow  
**

It was odd to be playing guitar again. Using the Antisound Studio's honestly ancient tape multitrack recording system, Ian and Jo had been laying down some rather primitive song demos. Mostly it was for fun. The new songs had a bit different feel, they bordered on melodic speed metal. The song Ian was recording now, contained a harmony lead section similar to some Judas Priest songs, like Freewheel Burning.

After a long break, he had some difficulties playing accurately enough, so he had to rewind the tape and attempt again. Punching in one bar (or even less) at a time, like with digital audio workstations, simply couldn't happen here. Hopefully this time he would get it right.

The guitar Ian was using, was a Kramer Baretta from the eighties. Very old-school, he knew. It had an angled humbucker in the bridge position, and then a stacked single coil for the neck. It was one of Russ's cheaper guitars. The paint job was green camouflage, so it reminded of warfare, but in a humorous sense, like Rambo or Commando. Not their actual Agent warfare.

To spend some time here again after the Stahlhölle show certainly made sense. The atmosphere was very relaxed, and Ian knew how much being here and spending time with his dad meant to Jo.

Now Russ and Jo were repairing the roof of the studio building. There was the occasional sound of hammering and drilling, which would possibly get caught on tape too, at least faintly. But since these were only demos for fun, it didn't matter.

Ian remembered the first visit here. He hadn't known what to expect, and Jo had been somewhat wary as well. But all apprehension had evaporated quickly. Russ had basically hugged Jo for a long time, and then made some coffee, as if the years of absence had never happened. The initial conversation was amusing too.

"So, you found yourself a guy?"

"We saved the world a few times."

"You mean eco-activism or something like that?"

"No. You've seen the fourth Rambo? Where he returns home after fighting for long. That's me."

At that point Russ had shaken his head and not inquired further, though Ian could see he was very moved. He probably remembered Jo's self defense camp phase, and thought it was something similar. Later in the night they all had drunk some whiskey, and Russ had told of some recording horror stories straight from the eighties. When the musicians would just drink and fuck in the studio instead of getting anything done, or even fighting. And Russ of course had to clean up the mess. The worst danger sign would be a mixed thrash / speed / glam band dressed in spandex, particularly if they were young and had no idea what they actually were supposed to be.

From this, Ian flashed to even older memories. The concept of visiting any residence with Jo was a bit odd, since they had actually done so little of it, spending most of the time on the road or in various Agent HQ's.

The first major instance of that happening was the second visit to Vlad the Forger, to get their fake identities after the Nibiru mission. It wasn't a particularly happy memory. Or in a way it was. Driving the Ka, and sort of getting to know Jo again after her memory-affecting procedure. There were funny parts to it too, like Ian using Vlad's laptop to browse tvtropes dot org, searching for "amnesiac lover" and "relationship reboot" to see how it had been handled in various media. He had been rather anguished just at that moment.

Jo had of course caught him on the latter page.

"Hey. This isn't one," she had said.

And Ian hadn't quite known what to reply, so he had just blanked out and in the next instance found himself kissing her. It had went quite well. No violent response. Later Ian had understood how much stress Jo had been under and wished he could have done something differently. But it was just harsh demands she had placed on herself and there had possibly been little to do.

Well, things had sorted themselves out.

...

Sebastian was back at the MSA office, the three monitors of his workstation all full of intelligence reports. He was going through all of them again, trying to find a decisive lead on the unsolved incidents now that the forest operation had been mostly a failure.

Downstairs, forensic teams were analyzing any electronic devices found from the compound, and from the two dead bodies. The parts of the craft itself were now housed in an even deeper sublevel. They had been hauled there by large transport helicopters. Thankfully the compound had been so secluded that there had been no witnesses. Having to ensure that they wouldn't talk (one way or another) would not have been pleasant. Most MSA operations were classified Above Top Secret, and Any Means Necessary, so they had the authorization. But still, it wasn't pleasant. That someone for instance would not be going home to his family just because he happened to see a large piece of black alien metal.

His phone rang. It was the MSA director, Walther Simons. A decade older than him, remorseless and hard-edged personality who would stop at nothing to complete the operations and who Sebastian hoped to not exactly become like in the future.

This time Walther had rare good news. They had been authorized full access to the CCTV tapes from the Area 51 assault. Previously they had needed to request bits and pieces, due to the sensitive nature. The MSA technicians could now quickly analyze the material and set up real-time matching to see if any of the suspects would turn up on street or traffic cameras. Sebastian knew the assaulting force had all used balaclavas, but physique and motion analysis could produce surprisingly accurate results. Due to the faces being hidden, it could not allow prosecution alone, but would allow narrowing the suspects in the very least.

They should have had this access right from the start! But better late than never.

The other promising lead was the main subject of the second incident. Kim Thorsen, the former night guard. For the moment, she was not being charged with anything. The MSA now finally considered the possibility of the cases being connected, and so she was under surveillance in hope that she would come into contact with persons involved in the first case.

The incident had been handled by the MSA-IDD section, which meant Infectious Dimensional Diseases. The TISCCAP plan had been their design. There had been unethical and unauthorized activity involved, and the only comfort was that the situation had resolved itself, through extremely unclear events. It could have been a worldwide outbreak.

MSA did not ever have the authority to open dimensional gates just for investigation after an incident was over. It would have been far too risky.

...

Deep within the forest compound's basement, a well-buried laptop connected to an external GSM antenna booted itself to life. The "dead man's timer" had expired, and so it sent out an encrypted broadcast meant to warn any remaining Shadow Unit personnel.

...

Jo was on the ladder, handing Russ a roof tile to replace the old one. They were close to finish now, and Jo looked forward to hearing what Ian had recorded in the meanwhile. The April afternoon was pleasantly warm, almost too warm for this kind of work, at least for an amateur. Jo already imagined how Ian would compliment her messy and sweaty appearance. It was very predictable. But Jo remembered encouraging him to be exactly like that.

Suddenly her cell phone beeped. It was still wired to receive highly encrypted Agent communications, in case something came up. She dug it up from her jeans pocket.

When she looked at the message, she almost felt like losing balance. She saw black spots, and fought nausea and vertigo for a moment.

It was not strictly speaking even an Agent broadcast. It was a Shadow Unit broadcast. The communication networks were both connected, and she had not been removed from the Shadow Unit list after the raid. The immediate thought that came to her mind was that she needed to break the SIM card and the phone to pieces right now.

 _TIMEOUT EXCEEDED. COMPOUND POTENTIALLY COMPROMISED._

She had often thought of the Damocles sword potentially hanging over her head. Now she thought it had begun to fall, in slow motion, coming to decapitate her.


	4. Chapter 4 - Electric Eye

**Chapter 4 – Electric Eye**

Erik was profoundly exhausted. Throughout the night, he had chosen obscure dirt roads and even narrow paths that had required all his concentration to not fall over with the bike. When he had refueled, he had half expected black helicopters rising up from behind the gas station any moment. But now he was back on the outskirts of the city, with no sign of trouble around him.

The cell phone beep alerted him. He read the short message and it didn't tell him anything he couldn't already have guessed.

Assault by government force. For sure.

He considered whether it was safe to return to his apartment, or if he should be heading north to his cabin immediately. First option was certainly more pleasant. Just a short visit to do the most necessary things.

Erik understood now how foolishly he had flirted with getting exposed and caught. Even flying the IAC just for the hell of it. But somehow the government agencies hadn't activated properly until now. Why? To first let the ex-Agents into a sense of false safety and to make them make mistakes?

He considered if he should tell Kim anything, or even take contact at all. Strictly speaking from her last behavior she didn't deserve to know, and probably didn't even want to.

Fuck. Suddenly life had a new meaning. That was a Burzum quote.

...

They were in the recording room. Russ knew nothing yet. Ian couldn't remember when he had last seen Jo this freaked out. That, and the implications of what she was telling, were honestly tearing him apart, but he wanted to control himself. As a last resort he could use dissociation. He was not absolutely sure whether he still could enter the state, as it had been long.

He forced himself to analyze the situation rationally.

"So, the warning was sent out. Means that Mad Dog's guys didn't reset the timer. Of course it could be for any reason, but I don't want to take any chances. So you're right we have to assume it's a serious reason," Ian said.

"We have to assume Torzu and Gorehound are caught, and they're spilling their guts just now," Jo replied, agitated.

Ian thought Jo probably meant "beans" instead, but guts certainly sounded more extreme. He considered. They all had trained together in Mad Dog's HQ, and the two certainly knew the identities of him, Jo, Erik. He had to assume that one way or another, they would eventually crack under interrogation. So, to tell the truth, Jo had every right to freak out.

"If I stay here, I'll put Dad at risk. And if I run, I have to assume they'll eventually use him to flush me out," she continued.

Ian wished he could come up with something to bring Jo comfort. But there were little options. Her reasoning could not be faulted in this case either.

"Could be time to contact the rest of the Agents. Or Hermann Grieg. More brain power to figure this out. I remember Hermann promised his help if any of us got into trouble just for saving the world. Though – they could be compromised too. And any contact or movement is a risk in itself. Fuck. It's hard."

Jo put hands on Ian's shoulders, and appeared suddenly more calm.

"It's not like you have to solve this right now. Or alone. It's my mess really. Remember, I made the choice to go with the Shadow Unit guys."

Damn. It shouldn't go this way around, her comforting him. But still, Ian appreciated the gesture, that Jo did not want him to feel any excess pressure. Ian knew of course, that his thinking was old-fashioned. That he'd always want to protect Jo from any danger, that it was always his primary responsibility. Though it was hard to fight how he felt, and to tell the truth he had brought the danger to her. Repeatedly.

Jo appeared to think some more.

"If I stay, I can protect Russ. Or when necessary, I leave the studio with him and we go on the run together. Meanwhile, if you need to get on the road to meet others, you do just that. I initially thought I should trash this phone, but I was just freaking out unnecessarily. It's still safest to use the Agent channels if we need to say in touch. I remember how Blowfish explained it, that the messages are constantly being routed differently."

"That sounds good. Better than anything I can come up with right now."

Jo kissed him quickly and left the room, possibly to explain things (in some censored version) to Russ, and Ian was left wondering. Usually it was always him who displayed excess affection. Though she had appeared to calm herself down, Jo was probably not just freaked out, but deeply terrified in a way she had never been. Ian knew the punishment for her misdeeds at Area 51 would certainly be capital.

It could be that she thought these were possibly their last moments together. But Ian did not want to inquire further, to actually verify it, because it could only bring more anguish. Ian even thought something absurd, that Jo would necessarily never have needed to go to Area 51. If she had stayed out of danger, living with Fury in her head could have become more tolerable with time.

But fuck. No. He certainly couldn't wish Jo that. Even going on the run was better.

...

Kim had progressed to the phase where the bass guitar did not disgust her that severely any more. She was lying on the worn sofa, that made her cramped flat even more cramped and honestly she had wanted to throw it out many times, improvising primitive doom metal riffs. They were not inspired. Nothing felt inspiring.

It wasn't just because of thinking of Erik. To be honest she had not thought about him much. But she felt a lack of purpose, that had come after the soul corruption incident. If she briefly thought back to Erik, he had explained feeling that also.

To be honest, this whole line of thinking sounded like an invitation to insanity. Did she really need to be saving the world to feel purpose? Like, all the time? No. Doom metal had to be enough. She just needed to find her way again.

After playing for some more, Kim checked the fridge. She was out of mostly everything. A trip to the grocery store was necessary, though in her current mood seeing people was mostly intolerable. Well, she could tune them out to a degree.

Though she could easily walk to the nearest store, Kim thought of rather driving some distance away to clear her thoughts. She could also make some unnecessary dangerous overtaking manoeuvres and listen to the radio too loud and check whether that made her feel alive. Of course, that could end badly, as the piece of crap car wouldn't allow much. Well, she just needed to keep herself somewhat in check.

...

The observation crew inside their unmarked van across the street watched the subject enter her vehicle, the yellow-black Smart Fortwo.

"Subject is leaving. Should we trail?" the operator asked. On this occasion Sebastian was on the other end, and appeared to be overseeing the surveillance directly. The operator thought it was unusual, but maybe Sebastian had a suspicion the subject would be doing something especially significant today.

"Yes, but discreetly," came the answer. "Do not let her know you're there."

...

Sebastian had the feeling that things were being put into motion just now. Like pieces of some unknown machinery. He just did not know their purpose yet. And sometimes he had an odd premonition of things happening before they actually did. As he thought this, his cell phone rang. It had happened again! This call was from another crew of technicians, those in charge of handling the Area 51 material.

"Live recognition produced a result. We have identified a subject on a motorcycle. Male, tall, heavily built. Ninety-five percent confidence. We have his current location and are tracking him through the traffic cams."

"Good. Carry on."

Sebastian knew he had to get a helicopter in the air now. The cameras alone were not enough, if the man decided to do something sudden. Things were almost happening too fast, and he felt the adrenaline begin to rise.

Possibly this was the turning point for the case, or both cases, to begin unravelling.


	5. Chapter 5 - Victim of Changes

**Chapter 5 – Victim of Changes**

Hermann Grieg had received the warning broadcast too. Working late, he cursed in his office now for the seventh time. His nephew – best known as Mad Dog – had of course been dear to him. But his death had been an expected tragedy. Eddie had simply possessed a death wish and used far too risky and reckless methods. And the worst, he had caused the deaths of many promising Agent recruits, who had followed him blindly, like in a personality cult.

Though he was family, it served just right that he had fallen at Area 51 and his body had been lost to government hands. Hermann had possessed little wish to think about him in the meanwhile.

Until now.

The broadcast meant that the Shadow Unit's tale had at last come to a bitter end. The (likely) deaths of Torzu and Gorehound, and what it meant for the rest, was the true tragedy. Unlike Mad Dog, whose operation had been just empty bravado, the six remaining Agents' actions had actually thwarted the planet Nibiru.

Now three of them remained. And all were in danger. Agents Goat and Phantasm would face execution, and Legion a likely life sentence, just for being on board the craft. And all this because of serving their country better than most could ever hope to do, and in fact the whole mankind. To Hermann, this was a grave injustice.

Hermann certainly remembered the meeting with them. All had been exceptionally sharp, certainly worth of senior Agent status.

Now Hermann considered, how could he make good of his promise to help them? An assault on an Above Top Secret classified facility would not go away easily. New, more meticulously constructed false identities? Possibly, but the government's recognition algorithms were developing more sophisticated each day. It would require extensive facial surgery in the very least. Plus, as the agencies no doubt were already on to them, it could be extremely hard to extract them unnoticed at this point.

Hermann hit the wooden table with his fist. The sound echoed for a second. Some seconds more, and he felt the burning pain. It too served him just right, for he had failed to protect those under his responsibility.

...

Still trying to collect his thoughts, Erik drove along a long overpass. At least he was feeling fresher now after the visit to the apartment. It had been fast and uneventful.

Due to the exertion of the night ride, he realized he had failed to consider the full complexity of the situation. Of course this was also about his bandmates. Ian. Jo. They would also be in danger, Jo especially. She would have received the same warning, and the two would formulate their own plans. Possibly it was best to not contact them for now, or attempt to make too complex trio escape plans. The more moving parts, the easier things would go wrong.

It was sad that AGENT would never play again, and it was possible he'd never see them again. He thought highly of both of them; the bond had only strengthened.

Erik was now at the halfway, on the highest point of the bridge. Now, he happened to look to his left, to the large supermarket complex below.

On the parking lot, among a hundred unimaginatively colored oversized sedans and station wagons and SUVs and whatever, he saw a lone, tiny, yellow-black Smart Fortwo.

It had to be Kim.

Things had to be taken one at a time, Erik understood.

This would be the perfect opportunity to meet her discreetly, completely by coincidence, and explain the situation quickly. Then she could make her own decision. If they would then decide to part ways, it would be fair for both. On the other hand, Erik would accept her tagging along, but only if she understood the danger fully. Whatever happened, he would know better then, and the complexity would have become more manageable. One step a a time.

Erik swerved rudely to get to the next exit ramp, almost not making it in time, and horns blared behind him.

...

Kim carried the shopping bag to the exit. It wasn't even that full, just the bare essentials. The supermarket corridors were indeed too full of people. Most were alternatively far too happy (or even worse, pretending to be), or then there were angry or crying kids who would almost threaten to burst Kim's eardrums.

Fuck. She was glad to soon be out of here. Though the drive itself had been invigorating, this place was hell, and visiting it should not be repeated.

As the exit doors slid open, Kim suddenly found herself fighting temporary insanity.

Just some distance away, Erik was walking toward her. What was this? There was no way he could have known she was here. So it was just like an insane coincidence.

Erik lifted his gaze, and had certainly noticed her.

Of course it was a complication. Kim had just planned driving away. But she could not say she was entirely displeased. Maybe now she could keep herself in check better and even explain her earlier behaviour. She thought Erik would understand, even a brief and simplified explanation.

Kim closed the distance, picking up the pace. They met just at the edge of the parking lot.

"Kim, listen –" Erik began in an unusual low whisper. What was this? Kim had honestly never seen him like that.

"The government may be on to me. All the shit I told you about. I wanted you to know before I disappear. They're probably following me even now. Anything else, like me expecting some emotional response from you, it's completely insignificant."

For some seconds Kim's mind was blank. So would it be that Erik's wild tales had a basis in reality? In a way Kim had never thought of him as a liar, but it was like the tales had existed in a reality of their own, much like the Purexo incidents. But regardless which way it was, Kim felt the ground somehow shifting away from under her. Only with difficulty she kept her balance.

"What do you want me to do?" Kim asked. Her voice was harsh, and she didn't even intend it that way. But the situation had come up too suddenly.

"It's your choice. But the only wise one is, walk to your car and forget me."

Of course it was the only sensible choice to make. The Purexo adventures had been bad enough. Kim did not want to get tangled in – what? Being involved with an escaping suspect of an Area 51 raid? Though Kim did not know law that intimately – except the rather limited part that came with holding a security guard job – it certainly sounded like life sentence material. In the least.

"Agreed. So, it's farewell then."

"Yes," Erik growled with finality.

Kim was sure of making the right choice. There was no especial emotion involved from either of them. That was good.

They began to walk in opposite directions.

...

Erik thought his mind was clearer now as he drove along the four-lane road, headed further away from the city. Another loose end tied up. He was ready to begin his escape, and with Kim not around, he would have much more freedom to do whatever it took.

Erik thought back to Gwen aka Blowfish, the Agent cyberwarfare expert. He felt a short rush of emotion. If he had never felt attached to her, had never confessed it to her, her death would have been much easier to swallow. A farewell with Kim at this point did not hurt, and prevented any possible repeat of that scenario.

Of course, the concept of fighting the world with a valkyrie of doom at your side was undeniably powerful. But it was best left to fantasy. Or album covers.

Something interrupted Erik's musings. He listened, trying to hear over the wind and engine and road noise. There was something in addition.

Now he got it. Helicopter blades. Looking behind him, he confirmed visually.

They were on to him.

Erik accelerated. His adrenaline began to rise along with the engine RPM. Even in this situation, its power was thoroughly enjoyable. And there was plenty of it in reserve. Though a voice in the back of his head said he was not going to outrun the flying pursuer. He had to get somewhere out of sight.

...

Behind the wheel of the Smart Fortwo, only minutes from starting it and heading away from the supermarket, Kim had a profoundly black moment.

She saw her entire future existence, extending as an infinite dreary misanthropic road with little purpose.

She had refused a call. Yes, one that could lead to death or to an indefinite prison sentence, but it was still a call. To something that would give her purpose at least for the moment. She honestly knew it was the call of insanity, but what else there was?

It was not even having a partner or not. In the grand scheme of things that made little difference, because it was very hard for her to connect with anyone anyway. Most would just fade away from her life.

But what truly worried her was that she would always find something of interest only to discard it. Like being a security guard. She had seemed to find only disgusting or outright criminal long-term employers like Purexo and Innovativi3D, and had finally lost interest completely. Then came doom metal. She had a short run of luck with Necrotic Dust, but they had been killed because of her. She didn't know if she had strength to begin the process of finding a band from zero again, and even playing itself had felt uninspired.

She thought she was possibly closer to actual tears than any time before. Or just falling to complete catatonia, which would be a bad thing when driving at the same time.

Just then she happened to look out of the window, and saw a helicopter high in the sky ahead, coming at her.

Was it Erik being chased?

She would find out. Follow the helicopter if she could. At least that would give momentary purpose. It didn't mean she was going to join the escape. Maybe she'd witness some kind of futile final stand, and would derive macabre pleasure from it.

But anything was better than the threatening emptiness. She waited for a hole in the traffic and made a U-turn. Then, she floored the accelerator. The automatic transmission got confused, until it finally shifted to a lower gear, and the tiny engine strained.

The rush of adrenaline felt good. Finally this piece of crap was being put into proper use.


	6. Chapter 6 - Wheels of Fire

**Chapter 6 – Wheels of Fire**

Erik thought there was potentially going to be no escape. Only open sky above him; easy for the helicopter to follow him. Damn. Now he understood he should have ditched the bike at the supermarket.

He was coming to a multi-level intersection, where he could turn back toward the city. But that too was of little use. Maybe he could hide under the ramps? With extreme luck, maybe.

...

The tiny two-seater raced through the traffic over the speed limit. In fact, near its top speed. Kim kept scanning to the left and right, looking for patrol cars. It would be a shameful end to her call to be pulled over. But there was little she could do to help it, if she wanted to catch the helicopter.

...

"Can you repeat, what did she do?" Sebastian asked over the phone.

The operator in the van answered in a high, hurried tone. "She turned around and is driving as fast as the car allows. Which is not much. But my educated guess is that it's because she saw the helicopter!"

Sebastian knew what this meant. A very likely accomplice. And the motorcycle was gaining speed. His pulse was racing now. They better not fuck this up.

"Do not lose her. Doesn't matter by this point if she sees you."

...

Kim began to climb the first ramp. She hoped she had not chosen wrong. The intersection was complicated, one she had never been to before. It would be an agonizing shame to end up going to a completely wrong direction. To be honest, the helicopter had the unfair advantage of going anywhere it wanted, hovering in place, or switching direction on a whim. Though she too could drive against traffic if absolutely necessary.

She felt her adrenaline rising even higher now. So far no sight of Erik, so she just kept her sights on the chopper. Soon the ramp would end and she would end up on the perpendicular road. Well, there would be more ramps, and even the ability to circle around endlessly, so wrong direction or more of hazardous U-turns would only be used as a last resort.

...

Sebastian cursed. The helicopter crew had lost the subject. He had abandoned the bike and was now hiding somewhere in the intersection.

He reminded himself of the three words. Any Means Necessary.

They really needed to catch him alive, but if that was not possible … then dead was an option too. He would not talk … but he would still carry evidence.

"He cannot be far. Try to acquire. Sniper fire authorized as a last resort," Sebastian barked to the phone.

...

Erik felt his heart pound almost painfully. This felt like a disgusting game of cat and mouse, and he was the mouse. The Agent missions had been nothing like this. Back then he had felt powerful. Like an actual Over-Man. Now he was stripped of all power, almost reduced to a trapped animal.

Of course, a trapped animal could be the most dangerous. He could still use his instincts.

His only real advantage right now was the shadow. He was hiding next to a heavy concrete pillar. The sunlight was bright, so he would certainly be hard to see. Of course, IR vision was still a possibility.

To know that Kim was away from here, brought also comfort. If someone had to die, it would only be him … or the government assholes.

...

Kim saw the helicopter close now, hovering. She congratulated herself for actually catching it. But what did it mean, had Erik stopped?

The wide rear door opened, and a man with a long object peered out. Certainly a scoped sniper rifle. They were going to shoot him.

It felt as wrong as Purexo opening dimensional gates. No matter if he was going to be caught and sentenced to death, didn't Erik deserve a trial first? It was possible these loons acted in some extra-judicial capacity, outside the legally recognized government.

She felt anger. Or even wrath.

Such power used against one man. It was not fighting fair. Well, then she would not fight fair either. She would use the Smart as a total weapon. Of course, she still wasn't suicidal. But something had clicked inside her, which made her consider survival somewhat less than usual.

The helicopter shifted position now. Going away from her and lower. Fuck. They had to be onto Erik, possibly only seconds away from the kill.

Kim considered for one second, then she floored the accelerator again, and cut through all of the lanes of the intersecting road, missing vehicles barely. Horns shouted all around her, but she didn't care. She only cared of the opposite ramp, that would allow her to continue the chase downward, and to perform the attack.

They would not see her coming.

She drove downward, gaining speed. The helicopter came into view again. She saw the rotating blades now, the sniper with his gaze focused on the ground. They were still descending even more. The ramp would soon end and she would be back where she first started.

Kim judged the distance to be perfect now. She twisted the wheel, so that the Fortwo ground against the metal fence. Her mind raced; so many things could go wrong. As she felt the car tilt, she yanked open the driver door and leaped out.

The Smart flew through the air, straight toward the helicopter ahead. Success!

Kim also found to her horror that she had jumped too late. She was over nothingness, with at least twenty feet to the ground. She could easily break her legs in the fall.

But her momentum was just enough to slam her back against the fence. She hit it jaw-first and her vision tilted oddly sideways; at first the impact didn't even properly register. For some odd reason she thought of being inside a video game, like those Viktor had played, in which the "death effect" was sometimes the first person camera just tilting.

She tumbled listlessly over the fence back onto the ramp. Somewhere in the distance, a horn blared, and she could see a fast moving shape pass her from very close, but everything was already fading away.

...

Erik thought he had finally lost his mind, that he was seeing hallucinations. Hallucinating of Kim's yellow-black Smart Fortwo coming flying from the ramp and smashing into the main rotor of the helicopter, making it spin uncontrollably until it landed partially sideways, the broken rotor grinding the ground with a repetitive hacking noise until it came to a halt.

Then he understood it was reality.

Kim had launched a suicide attack against the chopper. Erik's mind kicked into overdrive, shutting out emotions as a sharp coldness enveloped him. His first objective was the sniper rifle, which had fallen to the ground near the disabled helicopter.

He launched into a run and closed the distance in just a few seconds. The sniper was on the ground too, crawling pitifully toward the weapon.

For just a moment Erik's thoughts told him to halt. To consider.

If he would rack more kills now … the hammer of justice would certainly strike much harder. Somehow, he imagined that if he was to stand trial, his Area 51 actions could even be justified, as they were about preventing Nibiru from destroying the Earth. But no such justification, if he killed now.

So he continued his run, and only kicked the sniper hard. He would live. Then he picked up the scoped rifle, and slung it on his back. A Barrett M98. Even if he was not to kill, it would still be useful in disabling pursuers. Either humans or vehicles. The pilot and co-pilot appeared unconscious, so he didn't even bother. He had already turned 180 degrees, to head back to his Harley.

Then he happened to look up to the ramp, and saw an apparent human shape lying there, with a patch of blond hair.

Fuck. Kim. She had leaped out before the impact. But she didn't appear to be moving.

Now she was certainly very guilty as well. At least destruction of government property. Probably attempted murder. If she only was alive, Erik owed her to get her out of here. No doubt of it. He only considered the best sequence of actions. To get the bike first or not? But turning it on the ramp would still be clumsy. More pursuers would likely be arriving extremely soon. He maybe only had half a minute, possibly even less in the worst case.

As he turned around, he heard the sound of a vehicle arriving. A white unmarked van. Certainly more government types. So he actually had no time at all.

He took quick aim with the rifle and shot both front tires, and one more shot just to get the occupants to stay in cover for longer. Then he was on the run again, heading for the base of the ramp. As soon as he could, he jumped over the fence, and was now running back up, toward Kim.

Erik reached her and felt for the pulse. It was steady, but she certainly was unconscious. There could be neck damage, and it would get worse by moving her, but Erik just had to take a chance if he wanted her out of here.

Fuck. He did not want to make that choice.

He tried to think of some Nargaroth song to give him strength, but could not come up with anything definitive and did not want to waste more time, so he just imagined Ash screaming in a distorted voice at the top of his lungs, then crouched down, lifted Kim on his shoulder, and a few seconds later he was already going back down the ramp, toward the concealed bike finally. It was unsteady going, but it wouldn't be long.

...

Kim felt like drifting back to consciousness. Sound faded back in, followed by the pain, a nasty throbbing headache.

She tried to separate the sounds. A motorcycle engine. And the rush of the wind going past her.

She had only very hazy memories of what had happened before, but somehow she remembered she had done something to alter the course of her life irreversibly. Potentially something criminal. No, definitely. And now she could only enjoy the ride.


	7. Chapter 7 - Blood Red Skies

**Chapter 7 – Blood Red Skies**

Sebastian was so tired and pissed off that he didn't even have the strength to curse any more. This was already crossing into fairy tale territory. A fucking Smart Fortwo wrecking a helicopter, then both suspects resuming escape on the bike.

Law enforcement was already onto it. There was somewhat of a chaos on the intersection, but it wouldn't be the MSA's problem. From what Sebastian had last heard, the police had been unsuccessful too. The motorcycle had too much of a head start, and more helicopters weren't that readily available. Sebastian knew not requesting more backup early enough had been disastrous. It was he who had fucked up.

The suspects had to be close by still, but if they had electronic devices off and would keep themselves concealed, it could take time.

One cell phone had been found from the scene, broken to pieces. Possibly the woman's.

Sebastian exited his office to the corridor, to be met by Walther.

"You should take a break. We need agents, not zombies."

Usually, Walther would push everyone of them on mercilessly, but possibly he realized Sebastian's state better than he himself did. Sebastian knew he probably looked horrible, with eyes going bloodshot as if he had been drinking. He certainly had to be running on fumes, and could either just collapse, or scream senselessly at his co-workers and break the flow. He was turning into a major risk himself.

Though, if Sebastian headed out of the office and tried to sleep, would that be successful either? He would be thinking of the cases even in his sleep.

...

Erik killed the engine at last. It had been a hell of an escape, but thankfully the skies had been empty from that point on, and patrol cars had been too slow to arrive. They had hidden under a bridge for some time, then proceeded through a mostly deserted industrial area, along dry canals and then a river bank, until they had reached this disused two-story high factory.

The windows were high up and dirty, the orange sunset light filtering in. There were rusted large machines near the walls; they had not been used for years. It seemed that the place had been used just for storage in the end, as evidenced by the large cargo containers, just as dirty and unused too.

Erik thought the escape had required even more of his capacity than his Agent adventures ever had. But without Kim trashing the chopper, it would have been impossible in the first place. He had much to be thankful for.

Riding with her sitting in front of him had not exactly been easy though, and now Erik felt cramped and drained. The adrenaline also began to dissipate now, and he felt … something that was so many things combined that it was hard to think of. Certainly, he hoped that Kim was not badly hurt.

There appeared to be no power, no lights, but that was fine for Erik.

In this situation, electricity always meant potential surveillance. It had been necessary to break Kim's phone without asking, which he would have preferred not to do. But otherwise it would have allowed real-time tracking even without visual. Erik's own phone was still with him, but the power was off and the SIM card separate.

Erik shook Kim a bit. "Hey. End of the road for now. How you're doing?"

Kim was definitely conscious now, but still took her time to answer.

"Feels like shit."

Erik considered that she had not actually vomited in the meanwhile, and was pleased that the voice was low and cynical. Just like Kim. If it was only a minor concussion, she was lucky. There was a gash on her jaw where the blood had already dried. It would have to be cleaned up, but wasn't super-critical.

"You feel like getting off the bike?"

"No."

They couldn't exactly stay there either. "You asked for this then."

"Fine."

Erik kind of admired Kim's attitude. It fit the escape just perfectly; providing almost a sense of humour. He assumed there would be heavy arguing later once she had regained her senses completely. Erik would welcome that though, since it would be a sign of health. Now it was pointless to argue about whether she was going to move on her own.

Erik stood up and first made sure the bike wasn't going to tip. No. Good then. He took hold of Kim and lifted her into his arms from atop the fuel tank. She winced just a bit, but did not protest otherwise.

For just a moment, Erik shook his head. The whole scene was like from some bad cyberpunk album cover. But he also felt kind of endeared, like Kim was a fallen valkyrie now. Or that holding her was a promise that he would keep her from all future harm. Erik knew he was getting ahead of himself again, and had no idea if such promise could be kept.

He turned around, headed for the nearest cargo container. If it wasn't full of broken glass or other nasty things, it would be a better place to hole up in than the large open area. The bike would also need to be concealed.

...

As the evening grew darker, Jo saw there was a new communication. It had come on the Agent channel, not Shadow Unit's.

She had been sitting in the kitchen with his dad and Ian. Russ was mostly up to speed now. The mood was not exactly light.

Jo read the message, then handed the phone to Ian.

 _Conference at six hours GMT in regard to current situation. Observe heightened security. All Agents requested. Agentsofmetal dot org slash channels slash grieg, password I12KYtWUAeD3AF8x. H._

"Hermann Grieg? And that's just an hour from now here. Possible trap?" Ian thought aloud.

Jo realized something. "Heightened security. Fuck. I forgot. We should have ditched the phones. Logged onto the channel with a prepaid. Or with the laptop."

Ian put a hand on hers. "There's possibly no harm yet. Just drive to town, wipe them and throw down a drain. Then they won't show the last location here. And this would be a potential hiding place in any case. We would have needed to ditch them long ago. But we can't see the future. The laptop's actually just as unsafe."

Russ had been listening and shook his head. "Now I believe. That you live 24 and X-Files in reality. I wish I could … do my part. Like, don't the good guys always set up traps? We could rig the studio with something."

Jo felt a wave of guilt. "Dad, no. It's not time for that yet. Or not at all. You don't need to incriminate yourself any more. That you let me stay here, is enough."

Jo saw her father's expression turn uneasy. He was going to say something self-evident, that of course he would. Very much like Ian. But there was no denying, all options were uneasy.

Well, hopefully after the video conference they would know more. At least it was just as secure as the messages, it was just the devices' physical location tracking that was not. They had maximum security enabled on the laptop and only used incognito mode, but Jo knew Ian to be right. Any time you were online was a potential opening for the hand of doom. At least now.

...

Erik returned at last. He had managed to scavenge some workers' overalls, and bright yellow helmets. Disguises.

To be honest, Kim had felt bored and useless in the meanwhile, just sitting inside the container under the oily-smelling tarp to keep her warm. Of course, her head had felt like spinning for long, so it was probably the best course of action. Now she felt like she could move around again.

Erik had cared for her well-being as best as he could, including cleaning up the wound (though if the cleaning agent was from this abandoned plant, was it exactly sanitary?) and she remembered how she had responded. To tell the truth, it had been unfair.

"You made me do this! Now I'm a criminal, a fugitive too! Fuck you!"

"Remember, I told you to walk. But thanks, again. I would have been dead or caught. Was the best possible use for a Fortwo I can think of."

Kim liked how calm Erik had been in response. She also remembered wanting to see what would happen if she sort of "ran off the script." In theory she might just have made it down from the bike on her own. But being carried by Erik had felt like floating, somewhat pleasant.

She considered if it was hypocrisy on her part. It was very similar to Ian and Jo staying glued to each other during the van trip. Well, she and Erik were not like that.

Kim also found she was now moving beyond the fear of the legal consequences. Similar to the Purexo incidents, it was like watching an action movie unfold. It was irresponsible, she knew. But normal life (with its endless boredom and misanthropy) had again ceased to exist. Kim wasn't sure if she had actual regrets at this point. Possibly, yes. A lifetime in prison still wasn't a fun thought. But before it came to that, they would raise hell.


	8. Chapter 8 - Courage

**Chapter 8 - Courage**

The voices from the conference replayed in Ian's head.

Hammerfist's FEMA related investigations. He had actually been continuing them ever since. There had been little solid leads, but the new piece was an odd phrase that Hammerfist had recovered from a FEMA side office hard disk that had been on its way to recycling. The hard disk had been rewritten multiple times, but not enough.

It appeared to be an email signature.

 _He who sits on the throne with the sceptre at hand_

Appended was a one kilobyte block of binary data, purpose unknown. The signature text itself was a quite blatant reference to both evil organizations that the Agents had encountered. Or actually THRONE was like a sub-group of SCEPTRE, that they had only encountered at the very end.

It had certainly sent Ian's mind racing.

It hinted to a highest controlling entity, one they had not encountered before. Not a high priest or a security commander or any head scientist. But a king.

In retrospect it was obvious that a sceptre and a throne would be nothing without a monarch.

This, Ian thought, could be an angle for attack. FEMA was responsible for large-scale disaster relief, and according to some beliefs, interning citizens into camps if the need arose. The suspicion had been that FEMA would be involved if people would be placed into SCEPTRE's virtual reality system, Absu, when Nibiru hit and made most of Earth inhabitable.

It was still like an infinitely thin ray of hope in the distance. Since they were government, getting any more information could be notoriously difficult. And time was running out. It was also very strange that all through their previous adventures, they had found nothing hinting at this kind of entity.

Fortunately, this was not all.

There was another lead, a potential recruit that Nitro had been trying to get into the organization, but unsuccessfully. An extremely skilled and elusive hacker who had witnessed exactly the same binary blob in the communications of some West Coast crime gangs.

Her real name was unknown. But the codename was Eve. That was enough.

Now, Ian was on the road, heading west to try to meet with the hacker. He was driving the cheap red -99 model Toyota Corolla they had bought some time after the Tacgnol incident. It was nothing to write home about, as particularly the interior was worn and dirty looking grey plastic, but it served its purpose from getting from point A to B. Meanwhile, if Jo needed to get around, she could use Russ's pickup. It wasn't the only car on the property, there was also the orange Datsun F10 behind the studio building, but it probably wouldn't start, and definitely was not legal to drive.

Ian could have been enjoying the open road and the relatively light traffic. But he felt a heavy weight on his shoulders.

To leave Jo and Russ behind. It had felt easy in theory just yesterday, and should have been, compared to actually heading out to Nibiru, but still actually doing it was different. Jo had no Agent gear now. And if the government came for her, she couldn't really defend herself, without committing even more crimes.

It was unfair. And it was a race against time.

Maybe, if the involvement of this mystery "king" in everything including government activity could be proven, then things would start unravelling. Maybe they could get some sort of amnesty. That sounded like a long shot, considering the severity of breaching Area 51. If not that, then some kind of blackmail maybe, threatening to reveal information that would be too damaging to the government, getting new identities and vanishing from sight forever.

That did not sit that well either, but it would beat execution.

Erik had been absent from the conference. Sort of as suspected. Ian and Jo had sent private messages. Nothing had come back. That had felt gut-wrenching too. To not know what exactly had happened to him. Their comrade-at-arms. In the very least he had to be in hiding. The worse options were not pleasant in the slightest.

Worrying about him would do little good to the current objective though. Had they known exactly, they certainly would have prioritized differently. To get Erik out of trouble.

Ian severely thought of dissociating. As he drove onward, he tried a few times.

No success.

Instead, he just flashed back to last night, in Jo's old bedroom. Ian finally understood how much Jo had been holding back earlier in the day, after she had shown the message initially. He remembered how hot her cheeks had felt, like she was on overdrive and barely holding herself together. Ian had gotten exactly five words out.

"Jo. You don't have to –"

Then they had sort of completely broken down at the same time and clung to each other with such desperation that Ian didn't remember anything like that. The unsaid implication being that now they should love each other enough to last for the possibility that there never was an another time. It was absolutely heart-wrenching. In theory the Agent missions had always held the same implication, but then they had possessed the gear, and the initiative. Now they had neither.

The foggy morning before Ian started up the Toyota had not been that much easier. The goodbye was best to do short and simple. So they had hugged for a second or two.

"I'll be back," Ian had said.

But to what?

Ian turned on the car radio now.

Sort of like Cave Story once had been the worst game to play in his state of delirious hangover, the song that he heard now was possibly also the near-worst one, though it was very epic, powerful and even full of hope. The subject matter just touched too close, making it impossible to think of anything else than how he was leaving Jo behind.

Manowar's Courage.

As he held the wheel, Ian cried openly. And he thought to any who might have seen that, or even to the unseen "king" –

Fuck you! I will cry and steer this four-wheeled piece of trash at the same time and I will crack open your mystery! And return in time!

...

Kim thought that their inventory was good for the time being. A stolen van full of tools, so their disguises were convincing, enough cash to pay for a few days' food and gas, a backpack to store things, and the sniper rifle.

She drove. The ache in her jaw was only minor now, and she didn't feel any dizziness.

Without better options or ideas, they were headed north to Erik's cabin.


	9. Chapter 9 - I Burn For You

**Chapter 9 – I Burn For You**

It was a new day, and Sebastian had slept – possibly five hours. After running on empty, that made a lot of difference, though it still wasn't great either.

A new chance for success. Or a new string of failures. It was just past 11 AM, and he was onto his fourth coffee cup of the day.

An alert lit up on one of the workstation monitors.

Sebastian's heart jumped. Something had been found. He double-clicked quickly and opened up the report. It was from Anneke, one of his brighter analysts. She had been up early, noticing the theft of a van being reported. A check to the police department also confirmed the abandoned motorcycle being found at last, at an abandoned factory. Finally, there was a camera sighting with a sixty percent confidence rating.

Sebastian looked at the slightly grainy picture. It was a large repair company van driving by the camera post. He could make out two figures in the front. A wide-shouldered person on the passenger side, and an almost as tall but slimmer one in the driver seat.

Good enough. It had to be them. There was a trail again.

Sebastian took a deep breath. If they messed up again, they might not get a third chance. The sighting was from a small town, and soon there would be no more cameras for a long while.

This time they needed all the manpower they could get. And since the man was confirmed armed and dangerous, firepower as well. Just police or even an MSA tactical team wouldn't be being prepared enough. Sebastian prepared to contact Gunther.

...

The forest road was boring, but right now it suit Kim just fine. She did not need especial mental stimulation, she was just concentrated on keeping the vehicle exactly in its own lane. Like some kind of robotic exercise. Erik also seemed lost in his thoughts, he only had given directions when necessary.

...

Jo needed something to do. After morning coffee she had already been out in the town with the pickup, ditching the wiped cell phones even further away, after first keeping them on for a little while. Then she had bought a new very cheap one, with prepaid access. Ian would do the same when he had the opportunity. She was logged in to the Agent communication channel again, so she wouldn't miss any developments.

She had also altered her appearance, though it likely made little difference. A ponytail, a light-colored flannel shirt and equally light jeans.

Now there was only one thing to do. To take a look at the Datsun, and see if it could be made to run. She probably needed Russ to help.

...

Erik felt a degree of pleasure from the scenery becoming familiar. It wouldn't be that long to Rocks Falls, and then the cabin. They would be there by the early evening, or even sooner if Kim would pick up the speed. He didn't want to urge her, because going the legal limit was safest.

Though Erik had been silent, he had been thinking. There were some things he wanted to say. But he was not sure if it was the right time. It would be safest to wait until the cabin, to not distract Kim yet.

"You've decided to shut up completely?" Kim asked, and Erik was a bit startled.

"I thought we can concentrate on the driving. There's time to talk at the cabin."

"You make me curious."

Erik thought there was a degree of mischief in Kim's voice. It was unusual. Well, he could of course answer in kind.

"Nothing special. That we make a good team. But if we were an actual repair crew, I'd get little work done. Especially if you look at me like that."

For a moment Kim looked uneasy, and Erik wondered if he had gone too far. And at the wrong time. With Kim things seemed to happen in reverse. He'd of course complimented her looks before – that she was a true doom valkyrie or such – but possibly not the way she acted.

"I'm not good in this," Kim said with sudden harshness.

Erik held his hands up. "Me neither. But like I said, this can wait. I don't want to make you uncomfortable. We can always skip to just what you like."

Kim laughed just a bit. So perhaps the conversation ended on a good note. But Erik thought the discussion was familiar. It was, though not exactly the same, and with the roles reversed.

Until victory or death.

Damn. Erik hoped this was not a bad sign. Though he didn't think himself to be superstitious.

...

Sebastian found his pulse racing. The chase was on again, and the suspects didn't even know. He just wished that he was on the site, and not here in the office.

Though, he knew Gunther was an expert. Sebastian trusted him to do his job. With the craft there simply had been no way to succeed in full. Now, though, there could be little excuses. One van against overwhelming military technology.

...

The forest zoomed by below the stealth helicopter. Gunther Jäger was in the co-pilot seat, checking the tactical displays. The teams (both ground and airborne) were fanned out so that there should be no chance of escape.

His earpiece crackled to life.

"Confirmed visual," said the rough voice on the other end. "Grid coordinate F7."

"Acknowledged. We'll land ahead of them."

Gunther switched channels to talk to his pilot. He acknowledged too and just a second later the chopper banked hard to the left.

...

Kim drove on, but her mind was partially elsewhere. It was true that Erik had distracted her. Kim was somewhat angry at him, though she also knew she had kind of started.

In the other world she imagined herself investigating a mental knot. What was the problem? Erik was always very patient with her. Yet Kim had never told him that. He deserved to know that in the least.

Not being on the run would possibly have been a better time to investigate this. Though Kim remembered how her thoughts had circled and how she hadn't gotten anywhere then.

Suddenly a loud pang and a hiss alerted her. The van began to shake. At least one of the tires had hit something and was deflating.

Damn.

"Brake!" Erik shouted. "Spike strip. We have to get out!"

Kim knew her mouth was hanging open. She blamed herself for being distracted.

"I didn't notice it either, until it was too late. It was disguised well," Erik replied.

Kim saw Erik take the sniper rifle and the backpack with food and water. Then he was out and motioned for her to follow. To not waste time, Kim climbed over the passenger seat and exited through the same door. The van had nothing of value in it, only the tools.

She forced herself into a rage. Now was the time to give hell to the pursuers. Though she wished to be armed too.

...

"Vehicle disabled. Targets have exited. They're headed your way," Gunther heard the voice in his earpiece.

"Acknowledged. Stay in pursuit."

Gunther flexed his gloved left hand, while his right held the G36 rifle, equipped with a scope. This could be too easy. Though he never wanted to get complacent. There was just one complication, which he needed to keep in check. The escaping man was of course the official primary target. But to be honest, with the other it was personal. The night guard. Gunther had accessed the files. She had been there when Rutger had deployed to the Purexo dessert research facility, and never returned.


	10. Chapter 10 - Hatred

**Chapter 10 – Hatred**

Erik ran with the sniper rifle in his hands. A look to his side confirmed that Kim was keeping the pace just fine.

There was just one problem.

He had no plan, besides getting away from the van. The trap had come so suddenly. Would it be police? With their dogs? Or something even worse? How the spikes had been disguised hinted to the military. Damn. With the Agent armor and the sunglasses with their vision modes he might have stood a chance.

Now he had just a rifle. And Kim next to him, unarmed.

Especially now it felt like a cruelty of fate to have her following. Now they both were being hunted like animals. He remembered Ian's story –

How he had been so happy after finding Jo unharmed from the underground lab. They had escaped, and Ian had done stupid shit like braking to full stop just because of hearing WyvernForce, and they had basically fallen in love that night. And on the next day, the full horror of SCEPTRE had been revealed to him, with René dying, Erik deserting the two (which still brought him shame) and they having no choice but to join the Agents.

This escape was not exactly the same, but the descent into full-scale horror was. Erik was seriously unprepared.

He submerged himself into a deep hatred just to help tolerate the situation.

...

Gunther had the two on his scope. The grey overalls were easy enough to spot against the trees. His finger was inside the trigger guard, ready to apply just a bit more of pressure. They were running toward at a diagonal angle. Directly toward would have been better, but this shot would not be impossible either.

The orders were to capture both alive if possible, for interrogation. Of course taking into account that the man was armed. The team was not expected to place themselves in danger. In the field, all kinds of things could happen, and the post-mission report could be filed creatively.

Gunther set his sights on the night guard.

...

Perhaps Kim stumbled just a bit, as the bullet flew past her head. A fraction of a second later she heard the report.

"Down!" Erik shouted. "They're shooting to kill!"

She hit the ground and Erik did too. Kim saw Erik scan with the rifle, sweeping from the left to the right, searching for the shooter.

He fired. From so close, the sound was thunderous.

"Didn't hit, but I see them now. At least three. They've taken cover. Dark camouflage uniforms. Special forces, I guess," Erik growled quietly and rapidly.

Kim nodded. After the near miss, her adrenaline was now flowing. She considered whether the state of mind was dangerous.

Erik's expression was both angry and desperate now. "We should separate to have better chances. But we have only one gun, so I can't ask you that. Let's just try to circle around, keeping low. At least at first."

Erik began to crawl, turning left in a wide circle, keeping to the cover of tree stumps and bushes while possible. Kim followed. She had to admit she had little experience of operating in the field. Though she flashed to something odd that had to have been from the Tacgnol incident. But the hazy memory seemed to include being much better armed. If she only had something, the rage and adrenaline could have helped her operate just as efficiently now.

...

After minutes of alternating between crouched sprints and crawling, they began to hear the sound of running water. No more shots in the meanwhile. Erik scanned around with the rifle, utilizing the scope, while still crouched low.

"A second team coming from behind."

That wasn't encouraging.

"What's that sound? A waterfall?" Kim asked.

"There's rapids close by, then it indeed falls down. Then more rocks below. There are a few more forks of the river, with similar falls of their own. That's how the town got named. Or alternatively – rocks fall, everyone dies."

Not encouraging either, but sounded just appropriate. Kim stopped just short of chuckling. If you jumped into the river, you would die. She found she just couldn't sustain the rage. But she wasn't that much scared either. It was just curious to see how this hopeless situation would unfold.

"But we have to get on the move again," Erik concluded.

They did just so. The sound of the rapids got louder, until they had a view of the river.

"Hey!" Kim whispered. She had spotted a wooden raft tied up on the shore. It appeared like the locals were suicidal.

"That's some kind of sick joke. Someone has left it there," Erik said.

"Do we have a choice?"

Erik considered just for a few seconds, while taking a last look behind with the scope.

"No. They're closing in. Let's get it on the move."

Kim thought that drowning into the rapids in case they failed was not necessarily the worst way to go, if you hit your head and lost consciousness first.

...

"They're getting on a raft! Don't have a clear shot yet," the voice remarked to Gunther's earpiece.

"We need to follow. But no-one goes into the water!"

Gunther switched to a broadcast channel for the helicopter teams.

"Air units, suspects are entering the river! Coordinate F8!"

Then he and his team broke to a run. Damn. It had been a lucky stumble that had allowed the woman to live. But her moment would come yet.

...

Erik paddled furiously, trying to keep them from hitting the rocks, as they sped down the rapids. Kim was doing her best to follow, but of course she possessed no previous experience.

They probably were going to die either way. Either the river rocks, or bullets. Erik began to hear a faint sound from above. So the enemy had helicopter support too.

Fuck.

Still, they had reached this far. Erik only hoped for the end to be painless.

Now the gunfire started. Small geysers of water popped up on both sides. Erik switched direction, trying to get them out of the harm's way. But it was hard to guess. In fact he thought they should have been hit by now.

"Kim! Take the rifle! Try to force them to cover!"

Kim stopped paddling and came over, staying low. It was somewhat precarious. For a moment she was very close to Erik until she managed to get the Barrett into her hands, and Erik briefly felt her breath against his face. And for an equally short moment Erik wished that they would have more time. But he forced the thought into nonexistence, and focused again only on his hatred. And staying alive.

"Do you have spare mags?" she shouted over the water's roar.

"No! I think there's three rounds remaining." Erik certainly wished he had something better for Kim. But no luck.

...

Taking the rifle made Kim feel just for a moment that she had transformed. An avenging angel of some kind. Of course it was ridiculous. With three bullets she could not do much. But she hoped to make the best of them.

Back at the factory, they had quickly discussed how Erik hadn't killed anyone during the escape. And Kim should now try to do the same, though she had thought of raising hell.

She looked to her right, trying to acquire the soldiers following them. Dark camouflage, she reminded herself. She saw nothing, and lifted the rifle against her shoulder. Through the scope it was even harder, she thought.

Finally she saw something. A moving dark patch. She aimed well above, and fired. The rifle bucked heavily against her shoulder; she hadn't supported it well enough, so it hurt.

Kim thought she heard a shout. Of agony? Had she hit someone? Had the bullet descended so much during the short distance? It felt improbable.

The soldiers fired another volley in response; the geysers kept popping up, getting closer.

"They're going to hit us!" Kim shouted.

Erik did not respond, but Kim could see the mad fury in his eyes. He was already doing his best. Then Kim looked ahead, and saw that the waterfall was finally approaching. Maybe they would lose the pursuers for a while, if they lived through it.

Kim thought the speed to increase now. The roar also gained intensity. Not long now. To make sure they'd make it, Kim aimed mostly randomly to the river bank, and fired twice more. The rifle was empty now. She wanted to make sure; the next press of the trigger produced only a click.

Suddenly there was one more report, and a pained grunt from close behind.

Kim turned to see Erik's face twisted in agony. He had been shot. The overalls were getting stained red on his right side, a bit above the waist.

Kim couldn't ponder this for long, as just then the raft went over the waterfall's edge, falling almost vertically. The roaring and frothing water consumed her whole consciousness. She was sure she would hit a rock at the very bottom and die.


	11. Chapter 11 - Seven Tears Are Flowing

**Chapter 11 – Seven Tears Are Flowing To The River**

"They went over the waterfall's edge!" a voice shouted in Gunther's earpiece. He was getting more enraged by the second. This was repetitive and obvious information; he had seen it himself. But it was protocol, to verify all sightings.

He had also been wounded. A bullet fragment had nicked his face. He could feel the slickness of the blood running down. It was nothing serious, but the symbolic shame was greater. He had failed to kill the night guard; instead she had hit him.

The team jogged down the hill to reach the bottom. Others were close behind, and the helicopters should be able to circle ahead. Down below was a clearing where they could land. It was obvious the raft was not going further, but the bodies could be drifting further downstream.

...

Kim and Erik were lying on a large rock just at the bottom of the waterfall, out of sight. Kim had honestly no idea how they had managed to stay alive. Perhaps some hidden power reserves, rage, or just dumb luck.

Getting soaked had spread the crimson on Erik's overalls further. It was hard to know how bad the wound was exactly. For now, Kim put her hope in that the soldiers would not shoot a wounded man, but that he would be taken in. And of course that he wouldn't die just to the injury.

"You don't have much time. It should be this fork where there's a cave under water. Just to the right of you. The dive is short, but the route itself is long. But it leads you back to the road. The soldiers will not know it. They'll think you died, and I'll tell them just that. Take the backpack. The phone is inside. The password is nargaroth, all lowercase. Try to contact the Agents. At least Ian and Jo are alive. You can tell them the truth. Tell them to pick you up. After you do that, copy the login information and smash the phone and the card. Then buy a prepaid when you can."

It was obvious each word was taking effort, though they were coming rapidly. It was a lot of information to digest at once.

But the game wasn't over. Kim wasn't sure how well she would manage, and to be honest it felt desperate, but everything was still possible. She had managed desperate and almost impossible feats before. There was still purpose. Only the thought of Ian and Jo disgusted a bit, but she needed to cast that aside.

Now she needed to be on her way. Only one last thing. Kim crouched closer to Erik's face.

"Erik. You're strong on your mountain. Stay that way. I won't make promises, but I'll give it a shot."

Then she kissed him, pressing against his lips and beard as hard as she could. Two seconds couldn't make much of a difference. In her current mental state, she wasn't sure if it was just something she felt like she was supposed to do, or if it was because it likely was the last time, but at least she wanted both of them to remember. That had to be good enough.

Then, she took a deep breath and was on her way. Diving through the almost-blackness, trying to search for the hidden cave, before her oxygen reserves depleted. Her vision seemed hazy. Was she actually crying while submerged? That felt honestly stupid, and she didn't think she felt actually sad.

She only felt creeping desperation.

If she didn't find the opening, or if Erik had remembered wrong, the death wouldn't be pleasant. Not the quick oblivion of getting knocked out, but a drawn-out burning pain, as she would take in water to her lungs.

Finally she saw something wide and dark, which could be the cave opening. She swam further below toward it, and hoped to hell the cave would be completely straight.

...

It was close to 9 PM when Sebastian's transport landed onto the roof helipad of the MSA facility. The main offices did not have facilities for holding captives, but this one did.

The man had been stabilized and was ready for interrogation. He had been identified as Erik Stein, a musician. The woman's body had not yet been found, but every indication pointed to her being dead. The raft had broken to pieces, and the rapids continued even past the waterfall.

Sebastian descended the steep metal stairs into the top floor lobby. He was met by Gunther Jäger, a bandage over the left side of his forehead, and a white-coated man Sebastian thought to not have met before. He was older, with whitening hair, perhaps fifty.

Gunther seemed to be still on the edge, almost looking dangerous, and Sebastian did not exactly look forward to his debriefing.

"I'm Dr. Ragnar Svart. I will assist in the medical part of the interrogation, if you so desire," the white-coat said as they shook hands.

Enhanced methods. Any Means Necessary. Sebastian was not exactly thrilled, but they needed the man talking as quickly as his condition allowed. Judging from his civilized appearance, maybe this doctor's methods would be more advanced and precise than the usual.

...

Jo was sitting with Russ in the kitchen again, the Kramer in her hands. They had almost gotten the Datsun engine to run today, and they'd continue tomorrow. It was indeed necessary to have something to do.

"Sometimes it's a bit stupid. That I anticipate what he'd do. Like, when I changed into this not-disguise, I thought that if he would see it, he would say that I look very pretty. And it's nothing special."

"You mean, like he'd say that regardless? Like if you were wearing a trash bag?"

"Yeah. Maybe. But I believe he means it. That he always sees me that way."

"Then he's the one to keep."

"Yeah. I've known it for long. It's just that all this shit keeps coming up."

"And I'm sorry I can't do anything to help except compare you to make-believe heroes. While it's my daughter's life on the line. It's just –"

"It's not every daughter who comes home and says, Dad, I've been to Area 51 and now I'm scared they'll execute me, can you help?"

Somehow, Jo thought that they had managed to find the funny side in the situation, that by just saying things aloud she felt better. It hadn't always been that way. With the Agents, she had often thought it a show of strength to shut out emotion, for example to not think or talk about Ian when he was out on his own.

...

Ian had checked in to a motel on the outskirts of LA. The heavier traffic had taken some getting used to; a couple of times it had been a close call to not scratch the Toyota further. But so far, so good.

Tomorrow, the search for the hacker would begin for real. He would ask Nitro for more instructions as necessary.

The prepaid was also taken care of.

Ian was lying on the bed, mostly just trying to get sleep, when the phone beeped.

 _Kim here using Goat's account. Goat caught, likely by government forces. Tried to kill me. Need pickup near Rocks Falls._

Another message followed. It appeared to be Hermann Grieg. Ian almost felt amused that the CEO of a weapons tech company was discussing like any low-rank Agent.

 _Note taken. All Agents likely to be occupied. Try to find transport to LA to connect with Legion. Also, choose a codename. H.  
_

Ian was not quite sure what to think. The situation had certainly complicated itself. The almost immediate thought was that they had to get to Erik, to break him out. Thinking of the potential fatal risk came only later. But they would have no idea where he would be held.

Thinking of Kim wasn't pleasant either. Ian remembered her constant passive-aggressiveness, or misanthropy, whatever it was. Ian thought one could be strong and cynical and even misanthropic either positively and negatively, and thought Kim just fell firmly on the negative side.

...

Still in the game, Kim thought.

She had survived the cave, shivering badly after she'd finally reached the other side exit, despite running as fast as her legs allowed. The soldiers appeared gone, but she was sure to wait for some time extra, and keep a low profile. A necessary break-in to a cabin, and she had a change of clothes. Erik hadn't told her to, but she had cut her hair and dyed it black. The change of style was acceptable.

Finally, she'd fulfilled the Agents' both commands. Hitching a ride in a semi truck's cabin, driving south-west through the night, and she also had a codename now. She was Satanna. Yes, not that great, but she wasn't going to waste any more mental capacity on that.


	12. Chapter 12 - Dungeons of Darkness

**Chapter 12 – Dungeons of Darkness**

Sebastian and Ragnar met outside the interrogation room with a reinforced glass wall. Inside, Erik had been strapped to a gurney currently in slight diagonal position, hooked up to an IV bag, and monitoring equipment next to him. His chest and arms were bare to allow for the monitoring electrodes, and otherwise he was wearing only orange pants. On a table, a steel tray of syringes waited, and a medical technician stood by.

"We use a system of two drugs. The first one induces extreme pain, but should not be fatal unless there's a pre-existing condition. The subject has to be monitored closely though, and multiple doses are not recommended. Especially in this case, when he's wounded. It also makes the person imagine things, that are specific for his subconsciousness. Extremely unpleasant things. We then let him be for some time. The pain will linger, typically for one hour, though usually the imaginations dissipate quicker. Next, comes the actual interrogation. The second drug will make all the pain go away, and the subject imagines the greatest possible relief. In some abnormal cases this will not happen, but it's rare. He will usually then answer questions truthfully, feeling he will get closer to the source of the relief."

Sebastian found this fascinating, though it was still torture. But they needed results. Confirmation of this man's involvement in the Area 51 attack, and his other accomplices.

For just a moment, a fear of injustice flashed through Sebastian's mind. What if ninety-five percent recognition confidence wasn't good enough? If they had hunted and shot an innocent man? But well, he had responded with force. Of course, if they'd find nothing, they would turn him over to the law enforcement, with no further interest in him. In this case, memories of the capture and interrogation would be chemically erased.

...

Erik thought that if he'd only hold on to his hatred, he would reveal nothing. Certainly, he wouldn't reveal that Jo had been with him at Area 51. That was the last thing he'd do.

There was a rubber bit in his mouth so that he couldn't actually tell them go fuck themselves at this point. Apparently, they'd only remove it when it was time for him to talk. Fuckers! He'd give them absolutely nothing.

He listened to the rhythmic beeping of the EKG monitor. He thought of stopping his heart by willpower, waiting patiently … then restarting it and striking with overwhelming force. But no. That was fantasy. It was just best to stay angry, and not start daydreaming.

The dark-haired man behind the glass wall nodded. Erik looked to his side to see the technician inject the first syringe into the IV drip, and tensed his body in anticipation.

He also grunted animalistically just to frighten the technician. But the man appeared mechanically calm.

Then he growled involuntarily, much louder, as the pain began to spread from his arm to the whole body. It felt as if he was on fire. He wanted the rubber bit out so he could scream at the top of his lungs. But no such chance.

Then it became worse.

While the pain still intensified, he began to see things that he knew were not real. He was at a crossroads in some reality far from here. He knew that the left fork would lead him to René. The right fork would lead him to Gwen. He could try to save them from their respective deaths, if he was fast enough. But he never was, whatever he chose. He even tried flying with the IAC, but still they'd die just as he reached them. The scenario kept repeating in his mind, and he believed it now to be absolutely real. His final coherent thought was that his sanity, all his mental functions, were about to be shattered to pieces, but he would welcome that if only these visions stopped.

...

The agony began to subside, just a bit. And Erik laughed. Those idiots had failed!

He sensed himself back in reality, at least partially. He also realized that they hadn't managed to get him to hallucinate of Kim at all. Of course … they could do it over and over again, and maybe this time he'd see her instead, but if that was the worst they had in store, Erik thought he would be able to resist, until he rather died. Yes. He'd tell nothing. They would not get Jo.

...

"That's was the uninspired part," Ragnar said. The technician was now powering up another machine, roughly the size of an old-fashioned CD player, and taping wires to Erik's head. "We should be getting signal … now."

Multiple waveform displays, like an oscilloscope, lit up on the monitor in front of Sebastian. The desk also had a microphone on a flexible stand, and Sebastian noticed an audio processing software running on the same computer as well.

"This requires me to interpret the signals, when the second drug is introduced. It's critical for the success of the interrogation. Don't worry, I'll walk you through it."

Usually, enhanced methods were always unreliable, Sebastian knew. Under pain, the subject would tell anything the interrogator wanted, to get it to stop. But in an extreme scenario they were still often the least worst option, compared to just waiting and risking a disaster occurring. Though they hadn't so far, the remaining suspects at large could decide for example to publish information on Area 51 and the craft, which would be unthinkable.

They waited while the technician injected the second syringe. The change was small, but Sebastian thought he saw Erik relaxing. Perhaps this would be the holy grail method. He would see.

...

Again, Erik felt the real world begin to fade. He was entering something pleasant, though he couldn't tell the place exactly, like in an incoherent dream. A voice at the back of his head was screaming that this was a trap, that don't tell anyone anything, but he found himself incapable of sustaining his aggression. He simply felt too good now.

...

"Yes. The brain signals indicate he is most likely thinking of a person. So you will now have to impersonate that person," Ragnar said.

For a second Sebastian felt apprehension, as the task had come up suddenly. He would have preferred everything to not rest on him. However, looking through the surveillance reports he now knew Erik and Kim had been seeing for some time, so the choice was obvious. Erik did not need to know – and could not know – that she had likely drowned.

"And I switch to a female voice preset from here?"

"Very good. Remember, his mind makes most of the work, so don't feel too pressured to get it just right. Once we see that his brain waves are within the right parameters, you can concentrate on what you want to know."


	13. Chapter 13 - Steel

**Chapter 13 – Steel**

Ian was up early, and felt oddly rested, though he had not slept that much. New messages had arrived, and he would pick up Satanna – or Kim – from a truck stop not far from the motel. He fired up the Toyota. He had been thinking of strategies on how to deal with her. It was a possibility that since she was in danger herself, she would be somewhat more tolerable and focus on the task at hand. There had not been a strict consensus from the rest regarding the exact nature of her involvement, except letting her help if she could do that without endangering the mission.

...

Ian pulled to a stop on the edge of the truck stop parking lot. He exited, and began to walk toward the cafe / shop building. Kim should be waiting there. He was also aware of her altered appearance.

Still, he was quite not ready for it when she came out of the cafe just as he was about to enter. They almost collided.

With the short black hair, the misanthropy looked to be amplified. The loose dark grey tracksuit looked odd, but functional. Combined with his denim and long hair which was now unkempt on purpose (plus the beard he had let grow), they probably would look like misfits who no-one paid attention to.

"Legion?" she asked.

"And you're Satanna?"

"Let's cut this crap."

"Fine by me."

They began to walk toward the Toyota. So far, nothing that intolerable had happened, Ian thought. Then Ian felt a degree of guilt; he had forgotten that Kim was in an even worse situation, regarding Erik. He didn't know exactly how close she was to him, and similar to when talking to Erik, it was probably unwise to inquire too much. But judging that she had voluntarily escaped with him … she had to be, at least in her own way.

Well, just focus on the task. Ian thought Kim might even be helpful if the hacker was just as misanthropic as her.

"So, Nitro said that we should stop by this industrial club, Steel. But it doesn't open yet. So we have some time to kill. Are you hungry?"

"Just ate a burger. No."

"You play bass. So, visit a music store? I hear there are some good ones around. Or the Sunset Strip? See where the old clubs used to be?"

"Let's just go back to the motel to wait."

To be honest, Ian wanted to avoid driving here as much as he could, so he was fine with the suggestion. He also thought Kim was tolerable enough to work with.

...

Finally, it was time to enter Steel. It opened already at 2 PM. A half hour later, they paid the admission fee and entered the club's darkness. Already to the entrance corridor, the subsonic throbbing bass sounded uncomfortably loud, accompanied by grinding upper-mid frequencies. At least metal concentrated on delivering a cohesive narrative with its interplay of guitar and drums. This, at least at first, sounded just like pure noise.

Well, possibly the purpose was to drive yourself to a specific mental state. Now that Ian thought of it, it was not that different of losing yourself in a mosh pit.

The corridor opened up to a large open room with two levels. Walkways connected the lounges on the upper level. Strobe lights changed color constantly, making Ian think the place needed an epilepsy warning, and already now it was moderately crowded.

"Who are we looking for?" Kim shouted almost to Ian's ear.

"A girl, light build, likely with a laptop and headphones over her ears! And a clover tattoo on the left hand!"

Nitro had explained the clover meant 4chan. For Ian it made little difference.

They began to circle the club. Ian knew it might look suspicious. He just hoped they'd find this Eve fast.

Ian was reminded of circling the used car lot, until he had spotted the Ford Ka. It felt similarly futile. He was almost completely numb to the music already. They were on the second floor now.

Then, in a dark corner, almost hidden from sight, he spotted a person who might fit the description. There certainly were large black heavy headphones over the ears, and the glare of the laptop lit the face.

Ian motioned for Kim to follow, and they closed the distance. To tell the truth, Ian felt trepidation on how he should approach this situation. If they scared her off, they would have lost their only good lead. Neither he or Kim were that good with people.

Well, perhaps the hope would be, that Eve wouldn't be either.

As Ian got closer, he saw that the person was constantly fiddling also with a cell phone. And chewing bubble gum. Appeared to be a thin girl, neither short or tall, with messy dark hair with a few strands colored bright red.

Just for an instant, and just because of the colour, Ian was reminded of Blowfish. Bright red = superior hacking capability.

Ian could not yet confirm or deny the presence of a tattoo.

Finally they were at the table. Now it was the moment. Do or die. Ian remembered how he had sometimes talked something completely random to Jo or Erik. But they were already friendlies. Eve (if she even was the right one) would certainly be neutral or even hostile at first.

Most direct approach, Ian decided. He tried to look non-hostile.

"Hey. You're Eve?"

The girl lifted the headphones off just a bit, and said something very quietly.

"Can you repeat?" Ian crouched closer.

"No."

The girl lifted her hands defensively on the laptop keyboard, and Ian could see the black four-leaf clover tattoo now. Definitely the one they were looking for. They just had to get her to trust them. But how?

"Listen. I know what you're thinking. That we could be enemies. That we'd come to harm you, or even kill you. We know your life is a shadowy flight into a dangerous world. Ours is too. We're friends of Nitro, and we're looking for your help. You know him?"

Strictly speaking it was a lie to say Kim was a friend of his. Ian hoped it wouldn't come to haunt them. The girl also hesitated for long, eternally long seconds.

"Maybe. But I don't trust you yet. I want to record you."

Ian looked at Kim. Her expression was blank, with perhaps just a trace of "hell no." But likely, it was the only way.

"Can I get a beer first? Satanna, you have to drive then."

Kim nodded. The girl nodded too.

...

Erik had been placed in a holding cell. He shivered from the disgust at himself. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He had been too complacent, too sure of his ability to resist. The second drug had wormed its way into his brain in a way he never could have imagined.

He had imagined seeing Kim. She was helping him escape, though he should have known the facility they were escaping was not in the reality. She had been different, just a little bit less harsh and misanthropic, and she'd caressed his face and asked if he surely was OK after getting shot, and after the tortures. Far too kindly! Kim was not like that. And while he'd imagined himself running down the facility corridors with her to freedom, he'd revealed everyone he remembered being in the Area 51 assault trucks, since she had asked so nicely. Including Jo's real fucking name!


	14. Chapter 14 - Cyberspace

**Chapter 14 - Cyberspace**

Eve quite didn't know what to think of the two yet. Well, the situation was fully in her control. She had visited this club for long and was familiar with the bartenders, the DJs and security. She had a "panic button" program on both the phone and the laptop that would alert them, at the first sign of trouble.

So she decided to relax a bit, and do what she normally did. Still, she kept chewing the gum. It was an essential part of her cover identity.

She maintained a social media presence, mostly on Twitter and Instagram. Of course Eve was not her real name. It was about a make-believe life of a hacker. Usually she posted with the hashtag JustHackerThings. Of meeting odd people and situations. But of course never about the real hacks she'd done.

So, by interviewing the two she would confirm that they weren't enemies. Malicious hackers, Yakuza or Triads, mafia, crime gangs … Or SCEPTRE. Though she knew of them and the Agents, she had not decided to join the Agents yet. Too much risk for too little reward.

The guy seemed to be talking more. Eve was fine with that.

"Is it recording?" he asked. He had been sipping the beer and appeared more relaxed now.

"Yes," Eve answered.

Before starting, they had required assurance that the video itself would not be directly published. That was fair. But she would be free to tweet live during the interview, if she didn't reveal identifying or incriminating information.

"Can I start first by asking, why Eve?"

Eve might as well explain.

"It's from elementary cryptography. It's always Alice and Bob who try to send a message, but Eve intercepts it. The eavesdropper."

"Kind of lame," the woman said.

"Yeah. Agreed. But since I'm supposed to be interviewing you, can you now tell me your names and why you chose them, a little bit of who you are, and such shit. And why you came to me?"

"Legion. I'm a dissociatively trained assassin. The legion of demons is the feeling of disjointed personalities. But I switched sides long ago, so you don't have to be afraid. I'm one of the good guys."

"Satanna. Fugitive. I just happen to like Satan. Good enough?"

This was certainly something. If these were killers targeting her, they were the funniest yet. Not that there had even been a proper attempt on her life, that had not been explainable with random street violence. She had been cautious.

Eve sent out the first tweet.

 _Meeting a trained killer and a fugitive at #Steel #JustHackerThings_

"Now, going into why we're here goes into operational secrets. I wouldn't want them to be tweeted live," the guy said.

"Understood. You know, since this video is not going public, I can reveal a bit more of how and why I do this. To get a reaction from people. Most the stuff I tweet is deliberately stupid, but I post things I know they will latch on to, will rage and argue about, or so. So you can steer this yourself, think what might get a reaction, be memetastic – I hate that word by the way - and yet not reveal much. I can also turn this laptop like this –"

Eve turned the machine so that the two could see the screen. "- and you can protest before I send it out."

They both nodded. For some seconds, there was silence. The guy drank more of his beer. For a moment Eve considered if she had already scared them too much. If she decided any time that they were trustworthy, she could of course cut the interview short.

"There was this thing I remembered. Nitro. He's a funny guy, right? He weaponized a Ford Ka once, and before he did it, he held this long monologue about his plans. It has stuck in my mind. So, if I get into the right state of mind, I might do something similar. It's actually to kind of focus my thoughts as well, and to concentrate on the funny side of things."

 _Trained killer going on a long monologue #JustHackerThings_

The guy took an even longer sip of beer. He was probably preparing himself for the right state of mind.

"So, I've been dissociatively trained, meaning parts of my mind remember some things and others remember others. I don't remember all of the training. Bits of it have come back to me. Actually now I want to put it all behind me and forget as much as I can. But, right. This what I'm about to talk now began when this Agent girl I'm super in love with had to temporarily, like, reset her brain. It caused her to forget things. Including me for a while, at least partially."

 _Ooh! Trained killer talking about being #SuperInLove #JustHackerThings_

"Everyone's too obsessed with love, so this is good. Will get a lot of retweets."

"So I began to read tvtropes dot org, and first it was just for this specific situation. To relieve my anxiety, or to read it together to cheer her up, but it expanded from there. Because I wondered if the enemy's assassin training had actually included infiltration training, like getting close to someone. And I didn't want what I felt to be all a lie, or pre-installed responses. In the Monarch training conspiracy, these infiltrators are called Beta subjects, usually female."

This was something Eve was familiar with. Monarch, MK-ULTRA, all the good stuff. If she was honest, it would be improbable for an assassin to go to these lengths just to be able to target her, so she could have cut this right here, but she was enjoying the show so far. And the guy seemed to be enjoying it too, once he got properly started.

 _Trained killer going to explain #LoveTropes #JustHackerThings_

 _Trained killer mentions #Monarch training #CIA #MKULTRA #Illuminati #JustHackerThings_

"So if I'm going to be slightly lame, I'm going to already reveal the conclusion that no, I didn't find traces of that kind of training. It was so harsh anyway, like forced fights and tortures and rituals, it wouldn't have fit. But I uncovered this stuff that was funny so I kept going."

"No problem, I can tweet that out of order," Eve said. "But can I mention those examples now? Torture's always good too."

 _Trained killer training includes #Torture #Rituals #JustHackerThings_

"Initially I thought that there was something wrong with me, and that's why I began to suspect the training in the first place. But reading more of tvtropes made me understand, that everything that's listed on that site is stuff that has repeated over and over. Because it actually works. Not for everyone, but for many. And you have to remember it's for fiction, so actually trying to fit anything from there to reality is on shaky grounds. And your mileage may vary, so don't necessarily try to fit what I'm going to say into your life. But fiction is based on reality. So, anyway. I'd have quite a lot of material. I'm going to mention just some. So, this Agent girl looks very cute when sleeping and if you take that negatively, it could be interpreted in sick ways. Like she could be dead or something. But anyway, the trope is called "beautiful dreamer" and I tried to find out my own reasoning, and I think I kind of succeeded."

 _Trained killer explains #BeautifulDreamer trope #JustHackerThings_

"It's actually quite simple. So she looks quite peaceful or relaxed then. And that could be equated with being happy. And of course I'd like for her to be happy. Actually that's all there is to it. And that is its own trope too, but it could be equated also with negative things, like that I sacrifice myself to blow up this facility, so that she can live and be happy. Fuck that. And yeah, that's its own trope too, like taking the third option, so that you can have the best possible outcome. That's why the site is so dangerous, because it's all hyperlinked and you can keep digging for more and more stuff and waste your whole day."

 _Trained killer always wants to #TakeTheThirdOption #JustHackerThings_

"Can I interrupt?" the woman asked. "Is it a trope too when like, someone carries someone?"

For a moment the guy looked at her a bit puzzled, like she should have had no reason to be interested in the subject at all.

"Sure. I don't want to go to too extensive lengths because that's also very repeatedly used, but when you use both arms it's "bridal carry" and to be honest, I found the tvtropes page unnecessarily confused. So I'm going to say that there's basically three reasons for it. One. It's a solution to a problem. You want someone from point A to B but they aren't moving on their own. Two. You want them to know that they can relax and you've got the situation covered. Three. This is more out there, but basically you yourself want to feel a specific way. A bit … fluffy."

 _Fugitive asks about #BridalCarry and trained killer explains #JustHackerThings_

"So you enjoy her being powerless?"

"No. Like I said, there's always a negative way to interpret things. Actually it could apply to anything. Like maybe you would feel all warm inside from playing doom metal with someone."

The woman shot a rather odd glance at the guy. Eve wasn't completely sure what was going on. They obviously had some kind of history.

"I'm kind of out of breath already, or at least out of beer, so I want to cut this short. Or take a break. So this concept of the other being powerless, like this Agent girl in my case. That's of course the "damsel in distress" and it's one of the most known tropes. And I only want to say that you don't ever actually want to be in the situation where you're doing the rescue, because that's not fun in the least. Imagine that you're raiding this place where there's evidence on hard disks, and you want to get at them, and the enemy will wipe them if they detect you. But now imagine it's your love instead. You fucking don't want that. Ever. No matter if she would look sweet and powerless if you succeed."

 _Trained killer rather rescues harddisks than #DamselInDistress #JustHackerThings_

After typing out the tweet, Eve had to ask. "Have you been in that exact situation?"

"Not exactly that. But close. So why we're asking for help is we're on our respective missions that touch somewhat close to that and I hope this interview is finished now. I'd have more stuff, like funnier stuff, but the clock is ticking."

"Let me type out one final tweet. But yeah. I think we are done now."

 _Trained killer and fugitive on their #TimeCriticalMission #24 #JackBauer #JustHackerThings_

Eve shut the video recording. Then she had to catch her breath for some seconds, as her head was spinning, not from the guy's story, which was actually quite endearing, but from the act of having to transform it into stupid tweets. She hoped the amount of retweets would be worth the suffering.

"So. Obviously the help you need involves hacking. Because this was so entertaining I can do some consultation without even asking for a payment first. In short, let's get the hell out of here and into cyberspace."


	15. Chapter 15 - A Touch of Evil

**Chapter 15 – A Touch of Evil**

They were at Eve's place now. It was a small basement room which you entered with its own elevator. Possibly it had once been a kitchen or laundry elevator, but it had been expanded. Eve explained that she had many escape routes. But the amount of trust was probably not maximal, as she had not shown them. Though from what Kim understood, it was not necessary.

She had been given the permission to tag along. And she had kind of done her part in meeting the hacker. Otherwise she didn't have a good idea of what was truly going on.

She thought she possibly respected Ian more now. They all were doing their best in unfair situations placed on them.

"So, this binary blob. I saw it in a message between high-ranked members of the Fusillados gang. I'm not going to tell how I got it in the first place. But basically, shortly after the gang started doing very aggressive takeovers and such, expanding their territory. Beforehand, they had tried to keep things in balance. It was as if the leaders changed direction completely. They acquired military grade weapons – though I'm not an expert on them – and quite a bit of wealth, until something happened. They had the whole district in control and then there was an attack, and almost the whole gang was killed. All the gear and money vanished. The few who remained tried their best to get into other groups, or even away, but due to the grudges held now, most of them were offed too."

"Do you think it's some kind of a code?" Ian asked. "Hidden instructions?"

"Maybe. Anyway, to tell the truth I knew you would be coming. Backdoor on Nitro's account. Maybe a bit shitty thing to do. But it allowed me to get up to speed on the situation. Actually it was extreme luck you saw the exact same fragment in the FEMA message. Because I uncovered the blobs mutate. There are also longer blobs. If I had to guess, it's a large system that updates itself. Once I understood to search for different blobs, I've seen them all over the net. It's actually scary. I'm rarely scared for real."

For a moment Kim laughed in her mind. So Ian's extreme almost-monologue had been unnecessary in the first place, if she already had known them and decided to take up the case. But this was sounding … Kim wasn't sure. Huge, foreboding, evil? Like Purexo.

But still she was puzzled, and wanted to say something.

"But how this is related to gangs? They're led by real people who meet other people. Not emails or systems."

"Yes, that's what I'm wondering too."

...

Jo was very pleased with herself. And with the assistance Russ had provided. She wiped her forehead, and knew she had smeared grease all over it. But the Datsun's engine was running! It had only required adjusting the carburetor and the ignition timing. The smoke from the exhaust was an ugly blue, so it leaked oil. Well, that could always be fixed with enough detective work. Next step was to check if it would actually move.

She smiled at Russ.

"I thought it was dead for good," he said.

...

Hermann Grieg had been alerted to Grieg Industries main offices. There appeared to be some widespread computer network problems. Nathan, the senior sysadmin, was hard at work, but couldn't quite figure the issue out, though he was a hardcore veteran, who usually did not even come out of the server room. It was as if the disturbances were constantly mutating.

His phone began to ring. He had a call from a blocked number.

He answered. The voice was somewhat odd, calm and precise, but still like it was in a hurry to get to the end of the sentence.

"Hermann Grieg. Please go visit your personal office."

"Who is this?"

The call had been cut.

Hermann felt rising apprehension. This, combined with the sudden mystery problems. He even feared an assassination attempt, as the company had acquired enemies, both individuals and other companies, who could consider that as an option. Or it could be a re-activated SCEPTRE. As they had supplied both sides, and even been monitoring the power balance.

He wasn't going to take chances. He went directly to the security station. Right now only his head of security, Anna, was there. She had once served in Mossad and Hermann trusted her to a hundred percent. She was practically all business, being almost as tall as him, and dark-brown, almost black hair always cropped short. The heavy handgun on her belt was very reassuring now.

Hermann explained the situation quickly. Anna radioed the rest of the security force, somewhat angry due to them having vanished to different parts of the building, when the CEO needed assistance.

Still, Hermann judged that having just her with him was enough. They went to the elevator and Hermann pressed the top floor button.

They arrived to his office without incident. Anna went first, the gun actually out now.

"It's clear," she said.

The office was like it had always been. The large windows of course provided an angle of attack, but there were no tall buildings in sight, so no need to fear a stationary sniper. Any attack would need to actually come from the air.

The caller had not provided further instructions, but somewhat instinctively Hermann went to his workstation, and unlocked it. The desktop, too, was just as usual.

Suddenly the view on the screen changed. Now it only read, white on black:

 _You have been chosen as the next avatar of REX._

Then the screen began to scroll with an overload of information. His personal records, his family, his assets, his known associates. The threat was implicit, to tell that this entity, REX, whoever or whatever it was, knew of them and would use the knowledge for harm, if he would not comply. If he would not become the "avatar" as requested.

Of course the call had been related to this, too. The network problems possibly, too.

He needed time to ponder. Alone.

"Anna, you can go. There's no danger. Thank you and sorry for bothering unnecessarily."

There was just a bit of resignation in his voice, but she didn't catch it.

"It was not unnecessary. But acknowledged. We'll be monitoring the situation and I'll be downstairs in the center if you need me again."

Hermann was left alone. Some time passed. His mind was racing in circles, and he was not sure if he was sensing time as too fast or too slow.

Then his phone rang again. Again the blocked number.

It explained, in the same tone, the tasks that were expected of him. To read and write emails and make calls according to instructions received, meet people when requested, and to be prepared to oversee a location he would soon be receiving transport to. This was a part-time job; he could still resume at Grieg, and he would naturally be compensated of his efforts, better than the CEO's salary. Everything was strictly confidential. REX would also possibly require access to Grieg technologies; this would also be compensated according to market prices, or even slightly better.

As soon as the call ended, the screen changed again. Now there was only a large green AGREE button and another, a large red one with the text DISAGREE.

Hermann did not need to think long. This was merely an illusion of a choice. The potential for collateral damage, or heart-breaking loss, was too much to contemplate. A couple of seconds, and he had already clicked AGREE.

Now that he was committed, but his mind still racing with uncertainty and fear, he began to consider the practicalities more. Though he wasn't at the office nearly all the time, explaining the absences could become a problem. REX would surely have no mercy or understanding, it would just expect him to be creative.

Five minutes passed with nothing happening. Then Hermann began to hear the sound of helicopter blades, fast approaching. The sound was quiet, but still there.

A sleek black helicopter landed on the CEO's private helipad just outside the office windows. From what Hermann could tell, there was no pilot.

...

They had spent some more time at Eve's basement, checking the internet for more leads. Of course only Eve was any sort of expert on that, mostly Ian and Kim could just follow. There had been little more substantial info, at least anything that could help absolve Jo and Erik (if that was even possible), or to even reveal where Erik would be held.

However, something still had come up.

Ian and Kim were at a cafe now, filling their stomachs a bit, trying to digest the new piece of information. When Ian thought of it, it was actually nothing they hadn't already deduced at the video conference, only there was now no doubt of the name.

Eve had understood some of the binary blobs would also act as decryption keys. This had allowed them to unscramble some messages, which had only contained scrambled text in addition to the familiar blobs. It was not much, and they were mostly insignificant, but one had stuck out, a variation of the FEMA email signature.

Ian repeated the phrase to Kim aloud:

"REX who sits on the THRONE with the SCEPTRE at hand."

He could not deny that his blood was running cold.

Suddenly his phone beeped. A new Agent message. From Hermann.

 _The organization on your tail is called MSA. Majestic Security Agency. They have Agent Goat. Will keep you updated. H.  
_

Kim's phone beeped and she was reading the same message too. Ian felt disorientation, suddenly it felt like too much was happening at once. Now he thought that his confessions at the club had come far too early. He should only have talked in such light-hearted manner until Jo was actually safe.

"Fuck. So we will have to hit them, don't you think?" Kim asked.

"Not so fast. We don't have the place yet. How did Hermann get this information, now?"

To be honest, Ian now wanted to race back to Jo as quickly as possible. They now had the name of the enemy, or enemies. He should get Eve to tag along for cyberwarfare. But Kim would want to crash the gates of hell to get to Erik. Well, she would need to wait in the very least for Hermann to discover the actual location. They were still out in the dark for the most part.


	16. Chapter 16 - Sword of Damocles

**Chapter 16 – Sword of Damocles**

Hermann felt his mind conflicted. His emotions confused. He could only enjoy the helicopter ride now, as the evening skies darkened. The city lights were left behind, and they were flying over sea now.

For a moment he thought absurdly, that he had not been blindfolded. But of course, he would come to know the location, and assumed he would later be allowed to move in and out freely. The threat of consequences if he disobeyed, or revealed anything he wasn't supposed to, would just hang over his head constantly. An NDA with no paper and signature, in a manner.

...

Jo had the phone on the table, showing the new messages. Ian was asking her privately what he should do.

 _No trouble so far. Tinkering with the Datsun. If you have unfinished stuff, go for it. XOXO_

How she ended the message was a reference to the Innovativi3D assignment, and an attempt at humour; Ian would certainly remember. Actually trying to communicate affection over text felt like a lost cause.

The reply didn't take long.

 _This can take some time. Let me know if anything changes. Or leave the studio already? Just to be safe._

 _..._

The helicopter touched down at the square-shaped helipad on an island Hermann was not familiar with. Not the largest, either the helipad or the island, but usable enough. There were bright lights all around against the enveloping darkness. Hermann needed some time to adjust his vision, until he saw that there was a large building ahead of him, with each of the three floors lit.

The building appeared pyramid-shaped. What the hell?

Hermann certainly remembered the Agents' mission debriefings. Two separate pyramid-shaped anti-cosmic locations of power. Was a new doomsday plan being developed? What would he be forced to take part in?

A burly man in an all-black uniform greeted him. An automatic shotgun was slung on his back, an unusual choice for a weapon.

"Welcome, Hermann Grieg. I'm Janos, commander of the force here. From this point on we will refer to you as REX. Let's take a tour first, and then I will show you your new office."

He led Hermann on a tour of the premises, and Hermann understood it had to be a command center of some sort. He encountered at least twenty guards, all well-armed with automatic weapons, and pistols for backup. If he squinted his eyes, he also saw sniper towers and floodlights at the island's corners. Some of the men appeared to be congregated in groups that squatted, while discussing private matters. It possibly was a form of exercise.

So far Hermann was too afraid to actually ask questions. But he was sure REX would explain everything.

...

An hour later, Jo and Russ were out on the porch. The evening was dark, but still almost warm enough.

"You've been quiet," Russ remarked.

"Things are developing, Ian made contact with the hacker and got some new info, but I don't quite know what the outcome will be. We now know that it's a little known agency, the MSA, that's after us. It investigates only the highest level cases."

"Like above NSA. I see." His voice was grave.

"Maybe it's time to leave for a while. To a location only we know. Until we're sure of the conclusion Ian has reached."

"Whatever you think makes most sense."

"Yes. We should go."

The pickup was out in the driveway, fully fueled. Of course the MSA would know the license plate, so it wouldn't be a true incognito mode escape. Still, they wouldn't need long to pack only the most essential things.

Jo thought she hear some almost imperceptible sound, then there was a sharp pop and the left front tire of the pickup began to lose air. Only a few seconds, and the vehicle was noticeably tilted.

"Silenced fire. Snipers!" Jo hissed.

Russ's mouth went wide open, then the expression changed to something Jo had thought to never have seen before. Grim determination. All through her childhood, when things had been bad, he had been distant almost to the point of catatonia. It was almost as if he was now making up for it. She thought he was preparing for war.

But they needed to get away from here. Grim determination would do no good if he got himself shot. Jo ran to him and took hold of his shoulders, to usher him out of the harm's way behind the house.

They rounded the corner. Jo heard more pops from behind, and confirmed quickly that all of the pickup's tires were now busted.

Her heart raced with something she couldn't exactly place – fear of course, but also like giving the finger to the enemies – as she understood the Datsun was now the only means of escape.

Behind the house now, Russ was going in through the back. Jo couldn't understand why. There was no more time to gather anything. They'd need to get everything along the way. If they even got out.

"Dad? What you're doing?"

"Getting the shotgun."

"No! Remember you can't kill them! I can't have you shot or executed!"

"And I can't have that happen to you either, if I can do anything to prevent it!"

Russ's voice was suddenly harsh. Full of upper-mid frequencies (why Jo was thinking that at such a moment?) But she possibly knew there was no arguing with him now.

Well, have the shotgun then. But at your own risk. I can't take responsibility of what happens to you now, Jo thought.

"Don't take too long! I'll be at the Datsun!"

Jo tried to control her voice, to not actually shout back now. She was not sure how close the unseen sniper (or snipers) were. Though it probably would make little difference whether she announced her plans or not. At least she decided she would be driving without headlights, if it was at all possible.

Damn. Right now she would have given anything for night-vision goggles.

She closed the distance to the studio building. It wasn't pleasant – she was in the open for a few seconds, and she expected the bullet that would end everything. Though – wouldn't they want her alive? To stand trial?

At the studio building now. Certainly no time to think of anything inside. If they had known, they should have positioned the old car closer.

Finally Jo was at the Datsun. She saw Russ come running from behind. In addition to the double-barrel shotgun he carried now, something was hanging from his hands.

When he got closer, Jo saw they were goggles. Primitive light amplification goggles for civilian outdoors use, but better than nothing. Jo hugged him quickly.

"You think of everything."

Russ handed one set to her and she tested them immediately. It took some time for the view to brighten properly, but she was now seeing a grainy green haze. Definitely low-quality. But potentially just enough to see where she was going.

They climbed into the car, and Jo turned the key. First the lights came on, then a further twist, and the engine came to life.

OK, have to remember this is leaking, Jo thought. The gas tank was also only maybe a quarter full, so they weren't going to drive to the ends of the Earth. But certainly far enough to get away from this ambush.

Russ climbed in too and Jo put the car in gear. Now would be the big test: would it move? They certainly should have started the work earlier.

From experience Jo knew the maximum speed could be about 100 miles per hour downhill, but it would be all horror already at 50. So, they would have to head downward if possible. That meant turning right from the driveway.

Could they even use the driveway? Damn, certainly no. They would have to cross over the fields, hoping they wouldn't hit a ditch they couldn't cross. Then only turn on the road when they were clear for the moment.

Of course, Jo already thought of helicopters. A three-letter agency like that would summon overwhelming power. She felt very small right now. But no-one in the world could really help her now. Not Ian either. If he had borrowed Agent gear, a rocket launcher or such, he of course could blow at least one down from the sky. But what good would it do? She wanted a future with him, not him on the death row too.

Enough of thinking. Jo began to lift the clutch and pressed the accelerator. The car almost stalled, but then they were moving forward.

The test was a success. Now it was time for speed. Jo floored the pedal.

...

"They're escaping in an old hatchback. Tracking from both ground and air!"

Sebastian had learned his lessons. This field report was pleasing to hear. No sense going in with minimal power and giving the suspect a chance of escape. Miss Joan Alder, you will be caught, renditioned, interrogated and sentenced, he thought.

The interrogation would be critical, because they still did not have certainty on who had exactly called the shots on the Area 51 operation. The CCTV recordings had of course revealed the man with the minigun, known as "Mad Dog," who had appeared to be in command of the assaulting force, but that was still incomplete information. He possibly had a superior too.


	17. Chapter 17 - Road to Hell

**Chapter 17 – Road To Hell**

The speedometer needle climbed, slowly, but they were still gaining speed. With amplified vision, Jo could see how the Datsun kicked up a dust cloud behind as it sped across the field. She was on the highest gear now.

Still there had been no sight of the enemies. But they had to be somewhere. Possibly ready to intercept once they would head on the road. Spikes would likely be deployed too, so it was better to stay off-road for now.

Because the engine was so loud, they couldn't hear anything, like an approaching helicopter.

"You're doing great," Russ said from the passenger seat. Jo knew he just wanted her to feel better. They weren't necessarily doing that great.

...

Ian had been waiting for some kind of sign from Jo. Were they going to head away from the studio or not? Uncertainty was never good. Now he and Kim were back at Eve's place again.

"So, if you're going to make a habit of spending time here, maybe it's time we start talking about compensation," Eve said. "This isn't exactly risk-free either. I rather do medium-size hacks I know I can handle, without getting the entire government – or this mythical king – breathing down my neck."

Ian knew he would have to improvise. Hermann had not given strict directions regarding this, but Ian understood the company's assets to be formidable. How they had funded their Ford Ka holiday across the Europe with no questions asked, as well as the payment to Vlad for the fake identities they'd used then. It was probably nothing to them.

"The Agents are backed by Grieg Industries," Ian began.

"Yeah yeah, I know all that. I want to be paid now."

"Then we'll just contact Hermann and he'll wire the amount you need."

Before Ian could take his phone out, it beeped in his pocket. He looked at the arrived message. From Hermann again.

Coordinates for the nearest MSA rendition station, where Erik was being held.

Ian's heart jumped. Jo would hold her ground for now, he thought. He needed to stop thinking that he always needed to be there for her. For actual mission-critical situations, she was his damsel in distress only very rarely. Right now, Erik needed his comrades most.

"So, what would it take for you to accompany us to an MSA – that's Majestic Security Agency – rendition station and help break our friend out? Of course only hacking, not getting into the line of fire yourself."

The answer was out almost as soon as Ian finished the sentence.

"One million."

Ian swallowed. It sounded like a huge sum. But to be honest – it was not that much for potentially ruining your life forever.

"Are you sure you don't want more?"

Ian could see Kim looking at him in total puzzlement. The amounts being discussed would of course equal to decades of night guard duty. Ian felt a bit bad for thinking that way. Being in a demo-level band didn't exactly make you rich either. It was only Grieg that had the huge resources.

"One M stands. But contact the Grieg guys quick before I change my mind."

"Fine. Let me get the message out."

Ian began typing on the phone's touch keyboard.

...

Sitting in his new, reinforced glass-office at the third floor of the pyramid building, Hermann felt the sting of guilt in his heart. His only comfort was that REX could not read his thoughts. Well, if the room was wired for biometric sensors, it could, in a way.

REX had wanted him to reveal the location of the rendition station. Hammerfist would also be arriving with a stealth helicopter and crates full of Agent equipment, so that they wouldn't be going in empty-handed.

On a surface level, the thought of Agents attempting a rescue mission for their captured comrade sounded good. The heart would be in the right place. But the brain should protest like hell! The original idea had been to uncover evidence that could possibly aid in clearing their names, or otherwise resolving the situation with the supreme controlling entity.

But now they were being led by very same controlling entity, like lambs to the slaughter! In the very least they would just commit more crimes, that they could never make go away. And Hermann couldn't warn them, at least right now, as REX would be watching.

There could be an even more sinister purpose. But what? Hermann certainly couldn't ask REX, and it certainly wouldn't tell.

Hermann could only hope for Agent Legion and the rest to use their heads. To stay calm. Not go in guns blazing.

...

The field continued, but began to slope down. It was the downhill stretch Jo had waited. Like she remembered, the needle began to climb over 80 MPH, which was normally the fastest Jo had seen it go on level ground.

Damn. A collision at this speed would certainly kill them. No air bags, only the worn, primitive seatbelts. There was no telling if they would hold after all these years, or if they would get launched right through the windshield.

But Jo knew she shouldn't dwell on the negatives. She had to believe they could still make it out of here. Because otherwise, what was even the point of trying?

Jo closed her eyes just for a moment. Not that she was going to cry, but just to let them rest after peering through the green haze for minutes.

Suddenly, she became aware of it being very bright even through the eyelids. She opened them momentarily to be hit by an absolutely, painfully bright light.

"Dad! Goggles off!" she shouted as she was already tearing hers away. They were right in the middle of a helicopter searchlight.

This might not end well.

An amplified voice filled her ears next. A megaphone or helicopter loudspeaker.

"SUSPECTS IN THE VEHICLE! STOP THE VEHICLE! I REPEAT, STOP THE VEHICLE RIGHT NOW OR YOU WILL BE FIRED UPON!"

Jo considered, her heart in overdrive now. Without Russ beside her, she might have been more collected, or even approach a state of dissociation like Ian could, but now there was too much hanging in the balance. Was there any other way but to comply?

"Give 'em hell," Russ said. "You can do it!"

Well, then it was decided. Jo yanked the steering wheel hard left, to escape the searchlight. They would head for the road now. It certainly felt desperate.

Next to them, there was a puff of dirt. Then another. When Jo concentrated, she heard the heavy sniper gunshots from above, and their echo in the night. The pursuers were exactly filling their promise.

One more shot, a sharp bang! and Jo felt the car tilt to the driver side. The front tire had not even deflated, but gotten torn to pieces right away. Jo heard an ugly flapping sound, then the even uglier grinding of the rim against the ground.

Jo knew the car wouldn't be controllable. She rather wanted to stand trial, and possibly see Ian and the rest once more, than to die right now. She pushed the brake as hard as she could. First it felt like there was no pressure, so she pumped the pedal a few times. Now the car began to decelerate at last, but she wasn't sure if it was more due to the brake or the busted wheel.

Ahead, Jo saw the edge of the field and the road. And in between, a shallow ditch.

The Datsun closed the remaining distance fast. Jo thought the speedometer was still showing at least 30 MPH, though it could have lied.

Then there was an ugly sound of gravel and possibly tearing sheet metal and Jo was thrown against the seat belt. It didn't quite stop her completely, so she also hit the steering wheel. With what body part or parts, she couldn't even tell.

For some moments, she just lay there in the driver seat. Not exactly awake, not exactly knocked out either. It possibly hurt, but the pain was somewhere in the distance.

The escape had ended. Or had it?

She could still try to get out. Like in a haze or in slow motion, she reached for the seatbelt release.

She looked to the right and saw Russ exit from the passenger door. With no steering wheel to collide against, he had possibly fared better in the impact, and remained fully conscious. But what was he going to do? To tell the truth, Jo knew very well. He had the shotgun out.

"You will not take her!" he shouted.

Jo didn't quite recognize her own voice, but knew it couldn't be anyone else's.

"Russ!"

A gunshot pierced the night.

At this point, Jo was finally free from the seatbelt and climbed over the gear stick to the passenger side, and finally out to the ground. Cold horror was beginning to creep in. She knew quite well what must have happened. Her eyes were hard to focus, but finally she saw the prone figure of Russ, with a patch of something dark under him.

"Fuckers!" Jo shouted. They'd taken her father from her. Though she had cared earlier, right at this moment she didn't care whether she lived or died.

"Stay where you are!" came a shout from close by. Had to be some no-name agent.

Fuck you too!

Jo crawled forward, to see Russ better, if this was going to be the last time she ever saw him.

She felt something sharp dig into her chest. Or actually, two sharp objects. Next she screamed involuntarily as the high voltage coursed through her body. Of course, its purpose was only to make her immobile, not to cause damage. It was nothing new to her. While her body convulsed on the ground, and she ran out of breath so that the scream ran out too, though the shock still continued, her mind thought –

Fuck you once more! Give me everything you've got! You have already taken everything from me so I don't care!


	18. Chapter 18 - Saboteurs

**Chapter 18 – Saboteurs**

The matter of payment settled, the Toyota was now headed to the MSA facility. Eve was sitting on the back seat, headphones on again and totally concentrated on her laptop. Ian was behind the wheel now.

Eve's voice alerted him.

"The dead man's timer is now set up. You all will have access to it. Basically, you can add files that will be published automatically, if anyone doesn't reset the timer. It'll always start counting again, and you can set the time window however you like. Or you can shut down the system. But once you do that, it'll be permanent. It wipes itself completely then."

Ian felt somewhat cold thinking of it. He didn't want an extra burden to remember. What if they just forgot? But they certainly needed all the insurance, all the control over their fate they could get. Fuck. It was like Manowar's song Bridge of Death, where they sang about insurance when doing a deal with Satan. And of course the government deserved a sword of their own hanging over their heads.

Eve went on. "You know, fail-deadly systems have always fascinated me. Always there, watching, waiting. Like the Russian Systema Perimetr, the system that will supposedly automatically ensure the nuclear counterattack."

Ian though he remembered reading something like that. And Eve was right, the principle was similar to their timer. Kind of small consolation, that you ensured revenge from beyond your own grave.

Silence resumed for some more miles.

"So, this may be coming at a bad time, but I was still thinking of the interview," Kim said as they passed a gas station. No need to stop yet.

Ian was not sure he liked where this was going, but since he had unloaded quite an information dump then with Kim listening patiently, he would possibly tolerate a little extra. And if Kim was trying to lighten the mood, could he really fault her?

"You talked about stealthing your way in a dire situation. We'll soon be doing that of course. But suppose there's no actual danger?"

Ian understood quite perfectly where Kim was going now. To be honest he was surprised she was even bothering with such lines of thinking.

"You mean like a damsel situation in ordinary life? Like me in trouble with the vacuum cleaner bag? Then it's practically an unlimited potential. And if you give me the opportunity, Satan knows I'll go out of control. If it's something that both enjoy, there's no harm done. I don't give a shit what anyone outside thinks."

"Thank you. No further questions."

There was a flipside. If things would really be going wrong again, then what he'd just said, or even the whole memory of the interview, would become completely intolerable to think about. Just as intolerable as Erik's Companion Cube had been during them assaulting the SCEPTRE mountain science facility.

After a pause, Kim startled him by saying one last thing.

"What you said last, reminds me of Crowley. Do what thou wilt."

...

Sebastian could not be anything else than pleased. The chase had ended with Ms. Alder now in custody. Only the shotgun incident was regrettable. Well, that had been on the father. Apparently, the weapon had not been loaded at the time, though ammunition had been found from his pockets. Still, there was never a way to know in the heat of the action; when faced with a potential lethal threat, MSA operatives could not be expected to risk their lives to answer with less.

Sebastian had stayed inside the facility since. He had his own "command post" in a corner and that was enough. As long as he had the laptop and cell phone with functioning communications, he could do his job just as well as from the main office.

He was glad to have Gunther out of the way now. The atmosphere, or at least his own mood was better without. Until they would have more evidence, there would not be need for further military-type operations.

Ragnar would be needed; he was taking a break, but would return in time for the prisoner's arrival.

...

Jo sat on the floor of the MSA helicopter as it flew through the darkness to a destination she didn't know. Her hands and feet were both flex-cuffed. Three MSA agents with pistols and tasers ready guarded her. They weren't taking chances. Her condition had been quickly inspected; apart from bruises, the crash had not done actual damage either. No broken bones.

She could either be glad of that, or think cynically that it meant they didn't need to hold back in the interrogation in the slightest.

She knew her face to be a mask of hate. A constant frown, with teeth bared. At the moment she couldn't even feel fear; only anger, sadness and total blankness alternated. She wished to be able to stay in that last state permanently.

A little bit like Ian, when he dissociated.

It was odd to think of him now. Jo couldn't feel especial emotion, like he was fading to the distance. Her thought repeated, that whatever he would do now, it could not do any good. Her own hero's journey to avoid the sword of justice falling on her had ended in failure, and that was the deciding factor.

In that way, the missions against SCEPTRE had been fairy tales. Because then his option had always been to come after her, no force and pain spared.

If it only could have ended into that night! Uncovering the poor fellows held in the SCEPTRE underground laboratory, followed by the most confused retelling of Sleeping Beauty ever. With WyvernForce included. Why someone else couldn't have taken over after?

Though Jo knew that for some reason only the Agents had been capable of taking up the fight. Where had the MSA been then? Where had they been before the Area 51 raid began? A tenth planet closing in should have been noticed. It was as if the world had been blindfolded.

...

Hammerfist was flying the stealth helicopter toward the MSA rendition facility. Within the crates in the rear, there were several Agent coats and communications devices, and enough weapons and ammunition for a small-scale war.

The exact time of the rendezvous was not known, since the others would be arriving in a beat-down sedan. Well, the stealth helicopter's active camouflage was excellent for lying low, and since the facility was in the middle of nowhere, there wasn't really even the problem of witnesses in the first place.

He could wait.

He probably knew it was a cliché, but he thought he felt more alive now. It was also a cliché that it was an unhealthy sign to feel alive only with impending lethal action.

The adrenaline could feel good, and certainly helped, if you stayed in control. He knew some men who only lived for war, and was thankful to not be at that extreme end. Others would be so scared that they couldn't handle action. He ended up somewhere in the middle.

At least one thing he was a hundred percent glad of, that his ongoing FEMA investigations had finally paid off, and proven a piece of the conspiracy. In some manner, the government had been compromised. They just needed to get to the bottom of it.

According to his own morals, the Agents had been right in everything they had done. He would not and could not have done anything differently.

The question was how much MSA was part of the same plot. They would certainly find more information inside the facility. The problem was only, that once they breached it, and the alarm got out (latest when the next shift arrived), the organization would summon all of its strength to hunt them.

...

Hermann was just going to find Janos to ask where his sleeping quarters would be, when he noticed a message came up on the third floor office workstation.

REX was giving him instructions again.

 _URGENT: Inform the Agent channel on the capture of Joan Alder. Use the proper format and codenames as usual. She is en route to the same rendition station._

It was odd that if REX was that powerful, why was it not formatting and sending the messages itself? Though Hermann possibly knew the answer: the system could not guarantee hundred percent authenticity, so it required the avatar. It was also using real names exclusively.

He cursed silently, as he could also well guess the purpose of this message: to drive Agent Legion against the wall and to make him do bad decisions. It was cruelty of the highest degree. It was also as if REX wanted to make sure they all were in the same place. Would it wipe them out then?

Had it been just a passive system collecting information, it would have appeared much less malevolent. But it certainly was active, with its own unknown goals.

Hermann wondered if the system was housed on this very island. Could he destroy it? That would most certainly result in his death, as well as consequences against his former wife and two sons. As well as the rest of his family and business associates.

Though, if he destroyed it, wouldn't the orders stop immediately?

He couldn't be sure if REX had kill teams constantly standing by, waiting for the next message and with orders to execute if it never came. That was the genius of it: the current avatar would always think of unlimited bad possibilities, and obey.

It could be all illusion. But could he risk it?

Losing his brother had already hurt badly. It had been a private aircraft accident under shady circumstances, but Hermann always thought it had been related to Grieg Industries' contracts at the time. What else? After this he had taken part in raising Eddie more. And where he had ended up?

Sometimes Hermann thought that when weapons technology and business deals were involved, he could do nothing wrong. But for people close to him, he could do nothing right. At least his sons were doing just great, far away from this line of work.

To have REX kill them because of him ... No. He couldn't go there.


	19. Chapter 19 - Night Comes Down

**Chapter 19 – Night Comes Down**

The message had came just after midnight.

Roughly at 1:30 AM they finally got near the facility perimeter, and parked the Toyota.

Kim could see the transformation on Ian's face, in his body language (though she was not that good interpreting either.) It was not pleasant to watch, and she knew that saying something to the effect of them being in the same situation now would have been seriously unwanted information. So she said nothing, especially as gradually Ian appeared to be coping better again.

The Agent with the equipment should be arriving at any minute. But seemed the Toyota had beaten a stealth helicopter.

Now they were hidden behind a large dumpster. Kim could see the facility in the distance, a low rectangular building behind a chain-link fence, barbed wire on top. In between was just a lot of asphalt.

Eve was out there, looking for points of access for hacking. They'd told her to stay out of danger and not go near the facility.

Supposedly most of the facility was underground. Kim had to admit she was mostly out of her depth. Because she had nothing more to do, she picked up the cell phone to read the message again.

 _The Agent Phantasm has been captured and arriving at the_  
 _rendition station where you're headed. The exact time of her_  
 _arrival is not known. Will contact again when I have_  
 _procured more exact information. H._

The line breaks were a bit curious. Then she thought she had something.

"Ian! Read the message again. First letters of each row."

Just then a second message arrived.

 _Rendition transport arrived twenty minutes ago._  
 _Expect resistance of 5-6 guards. Recommend use of_  
 _XMR rifles if Hammerfist has them. H._

Now there was no doubt what Hermann was trying to say.

"Trap. REX," Ian said. "Kim, you just probably saved our asses."

"Hermann is only speaking in code. He cannot tell us directly."

"It would know. Either he'd be hurt himself, or it's blackmail. So it wants us in there. And once we're inside, something bad happens … But there's still not much choice. I mean, you still want Erik out?"

Kim couldn't do anything else but to nod.

"So actually this doesn't change much. We just have to work quick. And stay alert at every step. No going into rooms that could be death traps. Keep all doors barred open."

...

The handcuffs still remained. But her feet were free. Still, Jo didn't entertain any kung-fu escape or anything. She wouldn't be going anywhere, with multiple armed guards around.

She was somewhat entertained to see that the first part of the interrogation was just that. Talking. No shocks or syringes or water. The agent in charge seemed somewhat reasonable. So far she was just playing dumb.

"I still have rights. I want a lawyer. Why wasn't I arrested by the FBI for instance?"

"Miss Alder, your crimes are out of the ordinary. You have seen the country's highest-classified facility. There is no way they could be allowed to handle your interrogation."

"Is that a threat? Do you mean that I will never see a courtroom or even a fucking death row cell but I just vanish to some of your hellholes?"

"Take it as you will. At this point I will only say that your life will become much easier if you start telling everything of this Agent – or Shadow Unit command structure. Especially those on the very top. We can also use chemical methods of interrogation, and they won't be as pleasant. But much more effective. Have no doubt, you will talk in the end."

"And you fucking killed my father! I don't think I have anything to gain. So I will just shut up. So fucking stick your needles in me, I don't care."

The agent did not respond with anything. Cold fucker. Jo decided to see what would happen if she would just start staring. Who would break the stare first.

The silence grew longer. Neither broke it so far.

Finally the agent stood up. "That suits us just fine."

...

Ian thought he felt better than directly after receiving the message.

Still, he tried to think of something to inspire him. What was the best metal song about saving your love? Ian couldn't think of many. Most were about knights, but nothing about modern warfare. And actually, it was better that way. He shouldn't be thinking about Jo at all. The point of dissociation had been to shut off distracting emotions. He should rather think of something that would both kick ass and approximate the dissociation, and imagine that song playing in his head on repeat.

Suddenly he knew. There was no better example. Judas Priest's Painkiller. Even the name was symbolic. All his mental pain would be killed, so only the tactical Agent core would stay at the forefront, and he could work efficiently.

The timing was perfect. Just as he'd figured that out, he began to hear the familiar whine of the stealth helicopter turbines.

Hammerfist was arriving.

...

Hermann almost congratulated himself. He thought REX couldn't catch onto that code. Because the messages were completely fine by themselves. Though … there possibly was a problem. All XMR rifles had been destroyed after the Area 51 raid, so that they couldn't be tied to Grieg. Fuck! He had fucked up. If REX had access to the company inventory, it would know that. Then it could be curtains for anyone close to him.

Cold sweat began to run down his back.

Well, he hoped this sacrifice had been worth it. At least the Agents would have some kind of warning.

Still he had no idea what REX would do once they were in there.


	20. Chapter 20 - Painkiller

**Chapter 20 – Painkiller**

Eve had returned now; she had hardline physical access to the facility. But she was still working with actually getting inside the network. The miniature base station was planted; now she could do the rest from the safety of the Toyota. She could have used the helicopter as her base of operations too, but maybe she was scared of it. Ian hadn't asked.

Ian and Hammerfist already had their Agent coats and sunglasses on. Ian thought wearing the familiar black let him feel much more like his old self. He only knew he shouldn't get overconfident. He had not been firing weapons for long.

"I'd rather want just the bulletproof vest. That's what I'm used to," Kim said to the two.

"The coat will protect better. The electromagnets deflect bullets. And even if you don't use the sunglasses' functions at all, they will show you the remaining armor power. But it's your own life and your own decision," Hammerfist said.

"This REX. Can it somehow affect the armor? Like shut it down or shock us?" Kim asked.

"If we don't connect the radio system, there's no outside connectivity, and no way to hack even in theory. The only thing that's been used against the armor is EMP, but it just disables it at once," Hammerfist said.

Ian knew no radio connectivity wasn't going to work.

"Eve stays outside. We need the radios. Otherwise we're just going in blind. Also, tactics. We kind of have to stick to the needle guns. And flashbangs."

He could see Hammerfist being disappointed. To a degree Ian understood, he had hauled an absolute arsenal here, but then it wasn't even being used.

Kim agreed to the Agent coat at last too, so they all were equipped just the same. Back in the Toyota, Eve had a coat on too, just in case it started raining bullets. It looked kind of oversized on her, but Ian hadn't said that aloud.

...

Jo understood that letting her wait was part of the game. To try to break her down even before using the actual chemicals.

She was strapped to a gurney, just slightly diagonal. EKG monitor in place and some other equipment she didn't recognize. The syringes waiting on a tray. All very unimaginative. Why not for example black metal blasted at over 120 dB? Or some loud infrasound. She knew seeing large speakers or other gear she knew from her life, would have been amusing. And maybe that was exactly the point.

...

"I'm in the network. I've got limited access," Eve spoke through the comms. "So, first you have to get to the entrance gate. I think there's no way around it. And not much places to hide."

Hammerfist ran in a low crouch, the tranquilizer needle gun in his hand. This wasn't still proper Agent warfare. But he had to accept. Ian and Kim were following on the sides and just slightly behind. He had taken command, and they had not protested.

No sniper towers. That at least was good. No-one outside at all. Just the rectangular building, and a single halogen light illuminating the entrance door that was large enough to drive a van inside. Rendition van, of course. On the roof he could see a small shed, that was probably just for the helipad entrance and stairs.

"The fence's electrified. I should be shutting it down – now. Wait! Don't touch it. I don't know if I succeeded. I'll try to open the gate next. When you go through, still don't touch anything."

Hammerfist thought Eve was certainly – different from Blowfish. Still, she was doing her job just fine so far, given circumstances.

Slowly, the gate began to open.

"OK. It's wide enough. Like Eve said, avoid the fence!" Hammerfist hissed.

He remembered Ian as Agent Legion on the last mission, the platform at sea. Back then he'd been an almost unstoppable killing machine. It was clear he had become rusty since then. But Hammerfist understood the weight placed on him. He just wanted a normal life. And Kim wasn't even an actual Agent. Just a former security guard they'd let tag along. Well, that was still better than just a civilian.

Hammerfist gave a few efficient hand signals, and they ran to the entrance door, Hammerfist and Kim to the right side, and Ian to the left.

"OK. Next step is the entrance. Wait... this requires me to compile a short program. I have to emulate a real-time protocol, as script is not fast enough. Will not take long."

Hammerfist thought they could have just blown up the door; they had explosives. But it would certainly have raised the alarm.

...

Through the entrance now. Ian felt the adrenaline race in his veins now, as he scanned with the needle gun to the left and the right. He knew the tranquilizer effect might not be instant. It varied a bit with hit location.

Painkiller still played in his mind.

From a left corridor, a uniformed guard appeared, a submachinegun leveled at him.

Ian dived forward as they both fired. He imagined time slowing down.

 _CHARGE: 90 PERCENT_  
 _CHARGE: 80 PERCENT_

Fuck you! You have to do better than that!

Of course no such slowdown happened, and Ian hit the floor rather nastily. But he also saw the guard stagger, the needle stuck in his neck. The Agent coat was holding up just like always. Still, getting hit was a bad habit. Finally the guard fell down, unconscious.

Hope you have some repeating nightmare! And Jo, stay strong.

That was the thought he should have avoided. But once probably didn't hurt. A quick look to the side, and Ian saw Hammerfist take down another guard, before he even got to fire.

So, two down. Possibly four or three remaining. Now just to get to the holding or interrogation rooms. They always had to be in the basement, right?

...

Sebastian stood with Ragnar outside the window.

"Is there an optimal time to wait?" he asked.

They had been monitoring Ms. Alder's pulse, blood pressure and skin resistance, but the measurements were practically unchanging.

"I believe we've waited enough. She is resigned to her fate and not cooperative. After the first, the second drug will work, believe me. Just think of your questions beforehand. If they're complex, it may be hard to get coherent answers. But the identities of the high command … if that's all you need, it should be easy enough."

Just then, Sebastian thought he heard something. Was the place being attacked? There were only two guards here on the sublevel, and three more on the top floor. And one on the helipad, who could not help them now.

Possibly it was only his overactive imagination, and he was wasting time. There was an enhanced interrogation to finish.

"Then we begin."

Sebastian nodded to the technician on the other side of the glass. Having given the command, for a moment he considered just for academic purpose. Was it more distasteful to use enhanced methods on a female suspect than a male? No, he thought. She was just as equally a murderer as this Erik.

Suddenly he saw only blinding white, and heard much too loud ringing.

A flashbang!

He fought the nausea, his balance off, but he stayed upright just barely. Now there was no question of the attack. Damn everything to hell! He should have had Gunther! Who was hitting this place? The Agents?

He was thrown rudely against the wall, and his hands were cuffed behind his back with cable ties. Finally the light and the ringing began to subside, until he only heard Ragnar vomiting. Sebastian was still against the wall so he couldn't actually see much.

Then the noise picked up again, in the form of shouting, and possibly a punch being thrown.

...

 _Thirty seconds earlier_

Just seconds after the technician began to press the syringe plunger down, the burning began to spread from the location of the IV needle. Jo thought just before she had heard something … were there now flashes of light outside? But now it was impossible to consider that any more, as the burning intensified until it was near unbearable.

Still, she had resigned to it, like she had resigned to everything else. How much she suffered, would make little difference.

She tried to sink inside her mind, to try to escape the burning.

What Agent high command? She would have laughed if not for the rubber bit. They were all dead. Like she would be, in the end.

She wished to be able to scream, but couldn't. She could only thrash and convulse against the restraints. The agony was too much, and there was no escaping.

Was there someone else entering the room? It was too blurry to see, and it didn't matter either. The outside world was vanishing. There was only the burning.


	21. Chapter 21 - Hardwired

**Chapter 21 – Hardwired**

"You must understand, that's an impossible request. Even killing me won't make it possible. There is no way to stop the pain faster at this point and yet retain the subject functional, or like you say, combat ready. The second stage drug would do it, but recovery would take hours," Ragnar explained the best he could, to the black man they called Hammerfist.

Now Sebastian and Ragnar were at least sitting on the floor and not against the wall. But they were hostages. For an MSA agent to be taken hostage was unthinkable!

And Kim had returned from dead, wearing the same battle uniform like the rest.

At least Sebastian took comfort from knowing the organization that had attacked. The Agents of Metal.

...

It was a scene from Hell Ian had never wanted to see. Jo thrashing against the gurney's restraints in total agony.

The technician had said he'd injected only one third when the flashbangs hit. Ian had punched him as hard as he could, and he had been knocked unconscious. In retrospect Ian considered if he should have plunged the rest of the syringe – and possibly all the rest of them – into him instead.

But it didn't matter. Ian could only concentrate on Jo now.

The rational part of his mind said that it was eventually going to be all right.

Focus! You're a killer! You didn't fail! She's alive, so be glad!

But right now it didn't ease his mind in the least. At least she was free of the restraints and the IV now. And Ian did the only thing he knew, he held onto her on the floor as firmly as was possible without actually hurting her, as she still shook like she had no sense of reality, only the agony. He kissed her, had his hands all over her, tried to come up with words of encouragement. Sweet nothings. Of course he had no idea if it was helping. Possibly the whole thing was just about him trying to feel better, and he cursed himself.

The only right way for this would be for him to suffer all the agony in place of her. Some kind of pain transfusion. But of course it wasn't possible.

Right now he didn't care for the consequences of the raid. He of course knew they had now technically taken hostages, without advancing their investigations at all, and REX was still out there, possibly ready to spring the trap. So what?

Had he been alone, this kind of thinking would have been unforgivable. But he could allow himself this, because Hammerfist and Kim were there, acting much more rational. Kim was searching for Erik from the holding cells. Hammerfist would look for evidence. And Eve would help them from the outside the best she could. They would handle it. Of course they could consider him a lousy over-emotional Agent in case they actually needed him for something critical, but then, fuck them too! The only consolation was that they didn't actually hear his thoughts.

Ian thought Jo was beginning to calm down a little.

It will be all right, angel, he thought. Just a little more time.

Meanwhile Ian still had his Agent sunglasses on, with the comms active. And suddenly he heard Eve's voice. So what? The rest would hear it too.

"Hey! Anyone! There's something on the network … does the number 218 mean anything to you? Actually, it's a time stamp. 2:18. That's … one minute from now."

Fuck. A shiver of fear passed right through Ian's spine.

There could be no other explanation. REX was going to explode the whole place in one minute.

"REX! Everyone out!" Ian shouted, and already prepared to stand up, taking Jo with him.

Then he understood there were several things wrong with that plan. They were on the sublevel. He could use the gurney to wheel Jo the first part of the trip, either to the stairs or the elevator. But then … he'd have to carry her. His strength or speed would run out. Which would mean that time would run out too.

Lesson for his next interview: love tropes are useless. Do not rely on them for survival. They're only good for sweet nothings when nothing is actually at stake.

Ian hadn't even considered all the unconscious guards. Even if the Agents all managed to get out, the guards would be blown to pieces and it all would be on the Agents. More murder charges.

"Don't think everyone will make it!" Eve shouted back over the comms.

"Can you do anything?"

"I don't even know what it is. It might not even be a bomb or anything!"

But something certainly was going to happen at 2:18.

"Keep looking!" Ian tried to push her on.

"I'm doing just that, all the time!"

The final seconds ticked down.

"I think it's the Agent –"

The clock hit 2:18.

Suddenly Ian felt uncomfortably warm. The lights above him flickered. Then he heard a powerful burst of static in his ears and his sunglasses shut off, along with all the lights in the room and in the corridor outside.

Electromagnetic pulse! The Agent coats had been tampered with. But why? The one on him began to cool down, but inside he already felt colder than ever.

...

In the middle of blackness, Sebastian possibly knew what was happening. The computer network and the power supply for it here were heavily EMP-shielded, so no lasting damage would be possible, but a focused pulse could still force a restart, for example due to momentary power supply overload. The system administrators would know it better, but during the restart a boot code would be loaded from a prearranged location. On computers this was typically the BIOS chip. MSA servers didn't use off-the-shelf parts, but the principle was still the same. They typically loaded directly from the network, using a minimal bootloader. As long as even one node was available, the restart would be possible.

From their talk, it sounded like the Agents only had rescue and possible investigations on their minds. Which meant someone had supplied them the EMP source and made them smuggle it in.

He also knew the MSA network relied too heavily on its custom solutions, and could in fact be worse than commercial options. Which meant that if the network here was compromised, the attack would easily spread to the rest of it.

...

Eve exited the Toyota and ran into the facility, as fast as her legs could manage. She had never felt worse in her life than now, and she would have to try to make things right somehow. Though she had no idea how. All her credibility as a hacker had been shattered. All the safety precautions she thought to have had down to last detail … worth nothing.

"Guys! Agents!"

She entered the blackness, and nearly stumbled over one unconscious guard. She saw the stairwell and began to descend.

"It was my laptop! It appears REX was on it too, and I had no idea!"


	22. Chapter 22 - Savage and Saint

**Chapter 22 – Savage and Saint  
**

Ian had now heard most of it. Their coats had acted as EMP grenades. And Eve's laptop had carried the new boot code. REX had now wormed its way to the MSA network, and their foolish rescue operation had allowed it in the first place.

When he thought of the magnitude of their failure, he didn't know what to think. It was like he'd have personally carried the anti-cosmic crystal on SCEPTRE's pedestal so that it could guide Nibiru home.

All through their missions, the Agents had never failed in such manner. Yes, he had been distracted by his emotions before, but on the whole, they had always achieved what they set out to do.

He sat on the floor in the darkness of the interrogation room. Next to him, Jo shivered, still in some degree of pain. But what could Ian even say to her at this point? He was too tired, too blank and numb to even comfort her any more, and like he had thought already, it possibly didn't even make any difference.

"We screwed up badly," he said at last.

"But you came for me. I know the deal, but everything ruined and seeing you one more time is better than just everything ruined," Jo replied.

"How much does it still hurt?"

"It does. But it's nothing you can't fix."

"How?"

"It's the same thing. If I'm in pain, that plus you comforting me is better than just the pain. And it'll eventually be over."

Ian did not have anything left in him to actually feel that sentiment, but he would still do it if she said it helped. He inched closer, and pulled Jo to lie in his lap while he stared into the ceiling. But no more kisses, no more words. He didn't have the strength to pretend something that wasn't there.

Until he gathered one last coherent thought. It was nothing pleasant. Though his mind was blank, he was still capable of considering guilt, at least on a logical level. Just the sum of the outcomes starting from him first seeing her.

"Jo. How is it possible that I always bring this shit to you and you're still happy to see me again?"

It seemed Jo had already pondered this too, as the answer didn't take long.

"When they got me, when they shot Russ, I basically shut down."

That too. But it felt logical. Ian could picture it, her father defending her to the last, until he was gunned down. Ian felt descending yet one further level of hell.

"So, at that point I finally resigned to what is coming, that I knew nothing could save me. But it doesn't change anything that has already happened. It doesn't wipe it away. That we were a pretty good team in Cyberpriest. Actually more than good. That you showed me that this whole dark world is actually there, when you know where to look. Yes, it can kill you, but you can also fight it, like we've done. And everything that followed from it, like me going into this underground lab on my own like a fool, and you following me, and yes you actually kissing me awake, and us becoming Agents, then visiting the worst possible festival, actually driving Nibiru away, and spending a spring and a summer just driving one hell of an ugly car, and later a car that was almost as ugly, and then me reconnecting with my dad. Even if he died, I still got to see him again. That's actually selfish of me, I know. And finally, if I wait on the death row, I rather do it with you alive, and knowing that you don't have any more lives on your conscience just because of me."

Ian felt something return. But it was somewhere very far away. It was like he could imagine what his old self, before the mission failure, would have done. It of course would have involved him weeping profusely already a quarter into that list and being basically forced to drown her in affection in every way possible.

Here, Jo was telling all that now, while she was in her blackest moment yet, and it was all being wasted because he wasn't himself.

Even to his blanked-out self, it felt somehow horrible.

It was that feeling of injustice that grew until it was completely impossible to tolerate.

He had to return.

And then it all came back like in one blast. It was no more the guilt of being responsible for enemy actions that had also caught Jo in the crossfire, but only the guilt for him acting – or thinking – like an idiot and wasting time. Like even at Stahlhölle.

It was nothing they couldn't fix.

"Jo … I quite don't know what to say. It's … like that you see only the positive, even at this moment, and I see only the negative. And I'm an idiot and I've been an idiot for longer than I can remember. Sorry, Jo. If we get out of this, I promise to stop being like that."

"Deal."

"Does it still hurt?"

"Some. But you remember what I said?"

...

Kim was searching through the holding cells when the blackout hit. The locks seemed to be those that were held locked by electricity, so now they were all open. She still had a few cells left to search, but was left in complete darkness.

"Erik? Are you there?"

"Kim!"

Kim felt lost now, trying to get her bearings. The sound echoed, and she didn't know the exact direction.

Until she collided into something. Something that stung her hand a bit. It had to be Erik's beard, that the MSA goons hadn't shaved away.

She had heard from the shouts that the mission had likely gone to hell. But she was still pleased of this, of finding him alive, and apparently with his sanity still intact.

"Erik. Can you walk?"

"Yes. Remember, they shot me in the side, not in the leg."

Kim considered all the stupid directions this conversation could have taken next, but decided to leave them aside.

...

Finally they were congregated on the outside of the facility. Sebastian and Ragnar had been released from the cable ties.

All the electronic Agent gear that had been on them was fried, and so were their cell phones. The only working laptop was Eve's. She waited anxiously while Sebastian was checking it inside the stealth helicopter. From what she could tell, all the Agents were feeling as resigned as she. They had let this mother of all hacks happen.

They all were now on first name terms, and Eve was now seeing live the Agent girl Ian had talked so much about, as well as Erik. They had the remaining functioning Agent coats and trousers on now to replace the MSA prisoner jumpsuits. But Eve only considered the gravity of her fuckup. She had no idea if she would ever want to tweet JustHackerThings again. Possibly, a long if not life sentence waited for her, with no net access possibly ever.

At last Sebastian got out.

"It's not actually how you thought at first. But exactly the opposite. The EMP and the code upload that happened, they were to wipe traces of REX from the MSA network. It had already been infected for at least two years. Now no more evidence remains that it has ever been there. Except – evidence that implicates me for having started the infection, and then designing the wipeout attack that would launch at 2:18."

"What is the REX exactly?" Kim asked.

"It's not a virus in a conventional sense, that is programmed by a human to carry out a specific task. Rather it's a self-updating, distributed AI. I'm not exactly up to speed on it. To get the short of it, yes, you messed big time, and committed serious crimes. But you did not do worse than us. All this time REX had full reign on our network. All the classified data... It's unthinkable. REX could have released it any time. So I propose a deal. If you help me shut down REX and clear my name, I will help clear yours. Time is of the essence, because now I'm a fugitive too. Any ideas?"

"Grieg Industries. Hermann," Ian said. "From what I remember, they have a capable sysadmin. Nathan. He can help us."

"Since we're now on friendly terms – I'd want to know one more thing. As you refused the subject then. How exactly did my father die? Did he make it to the hospital?" Jo asked. Eve caught the heavy sarcasm.

Sebastian looked embarrassed.

"Actually, he's in the hospital just now. He was badly wounded to his stomach and it can still turn worse."

"You never denied! You let me believe!" Jo was angry now.

"Answering your question then – wasn't pertinent for the interrogation."

Eve saw Hammerfist restrain Ian, who was going red in the face. But Eve liked that once in a while the Agent girl would get some good news too, even if not certain yet.

"Ian, calm down," Jo said, already resigned. "Better this way. He's a piece of shit, but we need the deal."

"One final thing," Eve said. "I don't think we can trust any electronic equipment. I'll need to smash the laptop now."

It would also be a symbolic act.


	23. Chapter 23 - Battle Cry

**Chapter 23 – Battle Cry**

Hermann couldn't get sleep. Somehow the REX's plan was proceeding, and he didn't have the faintest idea of what it was. Eventually, he assumed, REX would tell how to put this plan into motion from this pyramid island. Or actually … it could be doing it all by itself. He was needed only for stupid representational tasks.

He got back to his glass office. Could he do some good from here? Reveal some further information to the Agents? If he did, it would be open season on everyone he cared about.

So if he was to do it, he would need to make sure it would count.

...

After several hours in travel, the stealth helicopter touched down at last at Grieg Industries' main offices helipad. It was now 7:30 in the morning, and it was possibly the most cramped ride Ian had been on. Hammerfist had flown all the way, while the rest had tried to get rest. In theory Ian could pilot helicopters too, but expected himself to be severely rusty.

Ian considered the situation. At least they all were together now. In a way, Sebastian was on their side too, and in the same mess. Of course Ian hadn't forgiven withholding information on Russ's fate. And Jo's useless chemical interrogation. All that pain for nothing! If he had arrived just ten seconds earlier –

Though, in a way it felt like the guilt that had poisoned his mind ever since joining Cyberpriest was only now beginning to clean up. Perversely, it was all thanks to her suffering. If she had not been in such pain and he had not been so completely worn out, maybe it would not have happened.

Following this, Ian and Jo had reached a resolve. The deal with Sebastian meant they had a shot at freedom. That was worth giving everything. Including one's life. As equals.

Of course, all that was just empty talk if they would not find solid leads. Besides Grieg, there was not much. Or actually, nothing at all. Sebastian's MSA account had already been locked, and they would come after him, thinking he was now responsible for everything.

...

Gunther Jäger had received a very early call. He had been given a new assignment, directly from Walther Simons. Sebastian had been implicated in a network breach that they had not exactly told much of. Only that Gunther would have all the force he needed at his disposal to bring him in. Any Means Necessary. Alive was preferable, but dead would do as well. Apparently they were afraid of him revealing information of the MSA's inner workings to the public.

Just as he was about start his Audi A6 and head to the MSA office, his phone rang.

A blocked number. The voice was odd, not quite phrasing the sentences right, somewhere in between human and machine, he thought.

"You have been chosen as the next avatar of REX," it said.

"Who is this?"

"Look at the rain puddle next to your car. Adjust the mirror if necessary."

The classic bomb threat. And Gunther didn't even have to adjust. He saw a blinking red light underneath his car.

"Do we have an understanding?" the voice asked.

Gunther hesitated for some moments. To not comply was likely to die.

"Yes."

The voice then gave GPS coordinates for the pickup point, and the time limit by which he should be there. And the warning to not attempt to leave the car until there. Plus to not contact MSA at all, and practically abandon the assignment he should have been embarking on. Gunther did not remember when he had been afraid for the last time. But now he was.

...

Janos came to Hermann's office early.

"I don't remember anything arranged this early," Hermann said. "What is it now?"

"You have been replaced. You have managed the inventory carelessly."

Almost out of nowhere, a serrated combat knife appeared in Janos' right hand, and he plunged it into the CEO's chest, twisting the handle. Hermann fell to his knees, mouth and eyes wide open.

The cell phone fell from his hands, the screen showing a message that he had just sent.

Janos cursed.

...

As Gunther drove toward the pickup some thirty miles away his phone rang again.

Blocked number again. REX.

Gunther pressed the answer button on his mobile, held in the dock. The voice came from the car's speakers now.

"You should know that the previous avatar of REX had to be replaced in record time, due to him transmitting information he should not have. He possibly also was demotivated. Therefore you will be revealed the purpose of REX early, so that you may stay motivated better."

The voice, that Gunther now guessed to be synthetic with certainty, paused for effect and then continued.

"The purpose of REX is to oversee, organize and balance competitions and the accompanying darknet betting service for "lulz." What is currently determined as "lulz" is decided both by its internal algorithms, as well as voting by eligible audience members. Typically, the competitions are to happen between government agencies, paramilitary organizations, companies, or organized gangs or crime families. Sometimes even individuals. Typically access to high-tech weaponry has been determined as the most reliable source of "lulz," but other kinds of competitions have also been held, such as hacking, making the most money within a time limit, or completing other tasks within time limits or according to instructions. Often the contestants don't know they are competing. Currently, as weapon-based competition still remains most popular due to the high shock value and high stakes, you are predicted to be a most suitable and long-lived candidate for the avatar, as you possess direct military experience."

Gunther could not believe what he was hearing. He was almost reeling from the stupidity and had to concentrate his utmost to driving straight, despite his stoic personality.

The bad thing was, that if the bomb was not fake, and similar threats would continue, his life would depend on fulfilling this role to the precise instructions of the REX.

The voice came back for the last time.

"You should also know that the previous avatar managed to compromise the location of the REX headquarters, and an assault can be expected. This too can be a source of "lulz" if the voters so decide. In the event that the headquarters should be destroyed or captured, a new location will be chosen. Unfortunately this also means that the current avatar has failed his task, and will be replaced."

...

The clock was 7:40 AM. Since Ian, Eve and Hammerfist were technically the only non-fugitives of the group, they exited the chopper, headed to meet the Grieg personnel. Wearing Agent coats, they would easily be recognized in the lobby as friendlies.

They were roughly a hundred feet from the entrance doors when the windows in the office's all floors blew outward, making way to a huge orange-yellow fireball. The ground shook, and Ian could feel the heat on his face.

Even before considering that countless people had to have died, Ian thought: Grieg was a no-go.

No more leads.


	24. Chapter 24 - Kingdom

**Chapter 24 – Kingdom**

Jo could agree there was little point to stick around after the Grieg building had exploded. She had almost thought there had been an opening for the case –

"Wait," she said. "Why did they blow the building up?"

"So that we can't interview –" Ian began, still clearly deflated from the unexpected turn.

"Exactly, but how did it know we were heading here?"

"The laptop hadn't been smashed by the point we were discussing it. So I suspect the mic was on and it amplified the volume until it got it," Eve said.

It made sense. But Jo wasn't still quite ready to give up.

"So what if there's something on the Agent channel now? Any working phones?"

"Mine," Eve said. "But we have to assume it's compromised. I've kept it off since then.

"It's not like it can hijack this helicopter," Hammerfist interrupted from the pilot seat. "If we're just circling over the city while you check the message, it gets little useful data from the location tracking."

Jo thought how nasty it sounded to be always on your toes for the REX knowing your every move. It sounded like clearing your name wasn't enough, you also had to make sure to destroy the AI. Otherwise there wouldn't ever be peace.

Hammerfist lifted the helicopter higher.

Eve powered the phone on. "Hey, not so high that there's no signal!"

"Sorry, forgot since Agents on long stretches of service use satphones most of the time."

Jo thought of that too, as the helicopter came into a low altitude again. No, she certainly didn't want to go back to that kind of living. Especially now that Dad might actually make it. And she might –

Don't go there yet. REX first.

...

As the morning turned to midday, Gunther Jäger was now en route over sea in the pilotless helicopter. The REX was flying it. Sounded unbelievable at first, until you realized that there might be private technology development that was quite ahead of what the public knew.

Gunther had the phone on the seat next to him, as it rang. Knowing already who it would be, he answered with resignation.

"Once you arrive you will be briefed fully, but suffice to say that new competitions are always underway. Today, one of the victims was the Grieg Industries building, which was related to our previous avatar. You will receive full access to the system interface and can check everything then."

So they were bombing buildings? Did he understand right? For competition, and that was their "lulz"? Some delinquents, who were play-acting terrorists, yet costing real human lives? Pathetic.

But how could he work his way out of this?

"You may also be interested that one of the persons potentially to arrive is someone you know. Kim Thorsen. She will likely accompany the force that will assault the headquarters. An MSA agent, Sebastian Hall, is also going to be with them."

It sounded like REX was also messing with his head, not just threatening. Those attempts would fail. He would decide only himself how to deal with them. Why would the REX even be interested? But he wanted to test it.

"How do you know they will assault?"

"Prediction algorithms. Also, my biometric analysis shows that you are not quite onboard. I hate to be blunt, but let me remind once more that the integrity of the headquarters is also tied to your continued employment. As well as your relatives' well-being."

Gunther felt like his blood was going to boil. This was going too far! An AI making threats and coordinating bombers that had tampered with his car as well – and again, just for the "lulz" – this was simply completely out of line.

Supposedly these competitors were thinking they were doing something special, perhaps being some sort of paramilitaries or vigilantes – though they were only messing things up, and doing it under a computer's control. This was not comparable to a soldier's discipline in the least. They just wanted the world to burn, apparently.

...

Eve felt the rush of adrenaline as she saw there was a new message on the Agent channel. Exactly one.

GPS coordinates, and the text:

 _REX headquarters. An island, roughly 20 guards and sniper towers. Three-story pyramid, office at the top. As I send this, it's too late for me. I assume REX will now target my family. Real H._

Eve felt bad. And scared. Even the hack she'd allowed to happen was pushed aside, as she understood she was involved in something far more dangerous than just the rendition station mission. She was kind of committed out of necessity, as she was roughly equally guilty. So at least she would tag along. And hack if possible. Hopefully not getting into the line of fire herself.

Eve showed the message to the rest. Hammerfist punched the coordinates in as a waypoint, but did not turn the chopper yet. Eve understood him to be under heavy exhaustion for flying through the early morning, and now again.

As everyone had seen the message, Eve turned the phone off and took the SIM card out. No REX eavesdropping from that point on, if there even had been.

"Can we do anything?" Eve then asked. "To his family?"

"Fly there and kick ass," Erik said. "But we're somewhat under-equipped right now."

"I could relay this to the MSA, to Walther, but they would consider it suspect, as I'm on the run," Sebastian said. "We couldn't be sure they act on it. Furthermore, strictly speaking MSA doesn't deal with rogue AI's. This would go into the other three-letter territory."

"It's just us then," Ian mused. "Like always."

"The sooner we stop REX, maybe the sooner the attacks stop," Jo said.

Eve thought that they were seven samurais. It was better than less. Of course there was Erik who was wounded, so he was likely out of action. And there weren't working Agent coats for everyone. They had ... three?

She didn't expect her hacker adventures to turn out quite like this.

"Unless there's better ideas, let's go to an Agent fuel cache to rest and rearm. It's better to assault the island at dark," Hammerfist said.

...

Late afternoon. Gunther had arrived at the island, and shown around by the troop commander, Janos. Finally, he was at the top floor office, and looked down at his glass-walled dominion of "lulz."

To be honest, REX had profiled him rather badly. Just military background wasn't enough. One also needed to be mentally deficient to kill or destroy on an AI's command.

The voice of REX called him again. It probably had profiled he would respond to email even worse, so in there it had been right.

"Mr. Gunther Jäger. I have tempted you with an exciting post, which pays well, and allows insight to things most people will never see, meetings and places most didn't know to exist. I have given the foreknowledge of your enemies. Yet you don't seem to be excited. What can I do to correct that? Please take a look at the workstation and sift through all of the ongoing operations, activities and competitions. Surely, you will see something that will interest you."

Was this too a threat?

Reluctantly, Gunther began to check the REX current and past operations.

Only then, the full insanity of the "lulz" began to unfold to him.

They for example certainly had known of the first Purexo operation. They knew that this night guard was roaming the place – as a vigilante – and bets had been placed on when she might meet her end. Similarly, there was betting on which of Rutger's men would bite the dust first.

This whole system was insane! Gunther began to work himself into a rage and sift through the various categories at double or triple speed. He came across all kinds of violence, sickness and filth one could think of. Gunther was not expertly familiar on the criminal darknet, but practically, in the right places everything was for sale, and everything could be bet on.

How this madness could be stopped?

But Gunther knew that as he was the avatar, Sebastian and Kim would now think of him as the enemy, the one obeying the REX's commands to the letter, or for all intents and purposes being REX. Janos and his men would also terminate him at the first sight of too creative thinking.

Damn! What was the purpose of this whole system? How often were the avatars being replaced? Was that too being bet on?

Compared to this, MSA military operations were the pinnacle of sanity. This was just going off the rails into the deep end.

Still in rage Gunther clicked through more folders, until he came upon the Agents vs SCEPTRE conflict, which was familiar to him from MSA briefings. It appeared to be a pitched and carefully adjusted battle between two paramilitary groups. Typically SCEPTRE was the attacking team, cooking up some plan or conspiracy, of which the REX would drop subtle hints to the opposing defensive Agents, or otherwise adjust the balance.

The bets being placed extended to deeply uncomfortable and personal categories, including for each of the known members of these groups. And that was the "zoomed in" view. On the macro level, it repeated elsewhere, just as REX had said. All this for the "lulz."

This was internet stupidity turned into deadly reality.

And he was in the middle.

The insanity was, that REX had not been there at first. First, there had been humans doing this exact same adjustment. But it had been born from somewhere, and then it had developed more powerful than possibly even the inventors had thought.

Gunther thought that strictly speaking, if he was to die or sacrifice himself and by this ensure this system's termination for good, then he could be doing a greater favor than he had ever done on his military operations. But how? It of course shouldn't be a futile sacrifice.

Then his blood just ran colder. It appeared MSA itself would also be under REX's control from time to time; if needed, it would just turn a blind eye to something it should be handling. This had actually happened in the Agent vs SCEPTRE conflict; the planet Nibiru should certainly have been detected, but it just happened so that with a few messages from the REX, or a conveniently caused malfunction, no warning was given.

Practically, was this system in a way controlling the world? Not exactly. But not that far either.

Fuck. Fuck!

REX called him again.

"It seems you have found excitement in what this system can do. The biometric signs are much better now."

It was clearly mocking him.

He wanted to scream, but that would have alerted Janos. How Gunther wanted to break his neck when he wasn't looking! Then hit the master switch and turn this whole system off, wherever it was.


	25. Chapter 25 - One Shot at Glory

**Chapter 25 – One Shot at Glory**

Under cover of the fast darkening evening, the Agent stealth helicopter flew toward the island.

There was just a slight problem. The fuel cache they had landed to, had been picked clean. Completely empty, except for the graffiti on the wall:

 _REX_

It was clear that the AI was accelerating its operations, trying to make life as uncomfortable for the Agents and Sebastian as possible. The Grieg explosion was certainly part of the same plan.

So, no extra Agent coats. Just the three they still had remaining. At least they had rested until it was beginning to get dark.

Three with agent coats against an army of at least twenty. It would not be pretty.

Ian seriously wondered an even worse scenario: what if the island would be empty too once they arrived?

"We have just enough fuel to get on the island," Hammerfist noted.

"That's not a problem, if we succeed in finding REX, and gaining the evidence of the network breach, then MSA will certainly lift us out of here," Sebastian replied.

"Just to make sure … do we now have permission to kill?" Erik asked.

"This is an Any Means Necessary operation to recover evidence. Yes. The only problem being, I currently don't have authority to speak on behalf of the MSA. But as soon as we have proof that the evidence REX planted last night is fake and I am innocent, I will retroactively regain that authority and the actions will be construed to have taken place during a legitimate MSA operation."

Ian made note of this. It sounded similar to Jo's and Erik's predicament. Of course, it still hinged on finding the right evidence. So they would get everything they could. Thankfully they had Eve to assist.

...

"We see them on approach now," the lookout's voice crackled in Janos' earpiece.

Very well. They would handle this.

REX had informed him that the current avatar – like the previous – had not exactly taken a proactive role. So if necessary, he would be confined in his office, or even terminated in the worst case.

Indeed, they would handle this.

Janos knew Gunther had been inside the control console room. That was exactly his right as the avatar, though he had likely been looking for an easy way to shut the whole REX down. He had not been successful. Janos wouldn't know it either, and as long as the money was as good as it had been, he certainly wouldn't even consider trying.

...

They saw the pyramid now. It was certainly proclaiming power. Bright lights against the total blackness of the ground: it was hard to focus on anything very quick.

The ground team had been decided: Hammerfist, Ian and Jo would take the functioning coats as the most experienced Agents. Sebastian and Kim had bulletproof vests and could arm themselves to the teeth if they wanted, but they couldn't take as much punishment, so they would be wise to hang back until the opposition would be thinned out, or even eliminated completely. Finally Eve would be directing any needed hacking operations from a safe spot, likely inside the helicopter, while Erik watched over her. As long as he didn't have to move much, the wound should not be a problem.

Hammerfist banked the helicopter sharply away as a ground-to-air missile was launched from one of the guard towers. The streak of flame was clearly visible against the night sky, and in a manner easy to anticipate.

Next to him, in the co-pilot's seat, Erik took control of the helicopter's chain gun and attempted to blow the missile out of the sky.

Easier said than done. The stream of fire streaked past it, not quite hitting. For a moment Hammerfist thought they were playing a deadly game of cat and mouse near the sea level. He weaved, until the missile finally was too late to turn, and plunged to the waves.

But there could be many more.

"We need to eliminate those fuckers in the towers!" Erik growled.

Hammerfist didn't exactly disagree, and turned the helicopter back toward the island.

They flew past a tower and Erik cut an extended burst through the top, shattering the searchlight and cutting the guard down. One less to worry about. They circled to the far side of the island, and Erik repeated the same for the second tower.

Just then, the pyramid-shaped building's roof began to glow brighter.

"Is it powering up some weapon?" Jo shouted from the back.

"Possibly. Hang tight!" Hammerfist shouted, and put the helicopter into a fast descent just as a ray of intense white light shot from the pyramid.

For a second he thought vaporization was imminent: though the stealth chopper was agile, it couldn't outrun a laser.

...

The helicopter rocked, and Ian was thrown to the floor. He smelled thick smoke coming from the front. It was clear the beam of light had scored a hit. But had anyone of them been hit?

"Hammerfist! Erik!" he shouted.

No immediate response. Ian coughed from the smoke, and sensed the helicopter turn into a bank toward the left. And downward. Impact was a possibility. They had to get the flying machine in control again.

Ian climbed over the seats to see Hammerfist's left hand pinned to the cockpit wall by a large fragment of steel, no doubt melted and loosened by the beam. Hammerfist's face was a grin of agony, but also determination.

"I'm not dying. But you need to climb over me to use the collective lever. Or you can pull that out!"

In the co-pilot's seat, Erik appeared unharmed, though if smoke inhalation was not healthy to someone in full health, it certainly wasn't healthy for a gunshot victim. During the pause at the dump, Kim had changed his bandages, and for some reason Ian had thought, that if Eve was there to see it with a functioning laptop, she would have tweeted another #JustHackerThing.

But now, everyone was again concentrated on pure war. In short, they had to get the helicopter safely down, the sooner, the better.

Ian inched past him to the lever. Now they'd fly the machine together. Just then, another missile launched from a rear tower.

"Erik! Now you have to take it out!" Ian shouted.

Erik concentrated; Ian got only one quick look but it was like he was working himself into an altered state where he was one with the seeking missile, anticipating its moves. Erik depressed the trigger, and the chain gun spit fiery death.

For two long seconds Ian saw the missile still just coming closer, as the gunfire still went right past it.

"Pull up!" Hammerfist shouted. But Ian didn't want to throw off Erik's aim. Also, shouldn't they be going down, if they wanted to land as soon as possible?

One more second, and the missile exploded in a fireball.

Working together, Hammerfist and Ian turned the helicopter on a landing run. It was time to bring this bird down, before they all inhaled enough smoke to lose their combat readiness.

But as a soon as they'd touch down, the twenty men Hermann had promised would be coming for them.


	26. Chapter 26 - Fight, Kill, Die

**Chapter 26 – Fight, Kill, Die**

As soon as the stealth helicopter was down, they opened all doors to vent out the smoke while keeping crouched, as it might not be long until the enemies started converging on the machine.

Jo knew the Agent vision modes would help, though not all: light amplification would not be an option due to the alternating bright lights and total darkness.

Hammerfist yanked his hand free finally with a grin of pain, and he and Erik crouched low in the pilot compartment to bandage it. But it was clear that Hammerfist couldn't join them with the third functioning Agent coat. So practically the choice would be either Kim or Sebastian, and the rest of them would stay behind and defend the chopper. One of the working Agent radios would also have to be left here so that they could stay in touch.

"You're our ticket to freedom," Jo said to Sebastian perhaps just a bit crudely, "so it makes more sense you stay here well hidden and Kim goes with us."

Jo thought to have applied censorship, she could also have said "I don't trust the asshole who ordered enhanced methods on me to watch my back."

Distant gunfire started already. The guards didn't appear to be hitting the chopper yet, they probably just fired into the air to unnerve the Agents. Still they had to be quick with their decision, or it could turn into a siege right here.

"Fine," Kim said. "I don't need the radio either."

Jo knew the reasoning; in such short time there was no time to learn proper operation of the Agent gear. The coat, gun and ammo went surprisingly far.

Just as Kim was about to leave, Erik wanted to say something to her.

"Does it make you uncomfortable if I tell you to come back alive?"

"Fuck you, Erik! But no."

Erik responded with a thumbs-up, and Jo smiled a bit; they obviously had something going on. To be honest, Jo had kind of taken it for granted that Erik would manage in the same situation as she. She felt bad for the neglect now, but Erik probably wouldn't even notice. The tale of his getaway ride had been crazy. As for Kim – it took dedication to launch your Smart against an MSA helicopter just to protect the one you cared about.

Then the three were on the ground, Agent sunglasses and coats on and M4 rifles at hand. It didn't make sense to use any less powerful weapons. To be honest, they would have needed a sniper. Erik would have fit that role, but he was wounded.

But what if he stayed in place?

"Erik, you could snipe for us. Any that get past us will be headed for the chopper anyway," Jo said.

"Sure. I'll also see if there are any in the towers. There could be some nasty surprise."

While Erik went to get a scoped Barrett from the crate that had barely fit in with all of them onboard, Jo checked quickly with Kim that she knew all the functional parts of the M4. That was settled fast enough. It was odd to think of Kim without her traditional valkyrie hair, but now she looked more like she was expecting bloodshed. Jo also showed quickly how to change the vision mode on the glasses.

Jo didn't especially like the thought that she was going to kill again, but this was an overwhelming force guarding a malicious AI. Anything like the needle guns or trying to stay undetected would be a pure waste of time, and potentially lead to their deaths.

...

Finally they were on the move.

They advanced, staying as low as they could without it actually turning into crawling. Jo switched to heat vision, and saw three shapes advance with bulky-looking rifles, but with surprisingly efficient and nimble motion. As they likely were wearing vests, Jo aimed high, going for the heads with burst fire.

The one on the left went down instantly, the second she missed, and return fire began. Jo's armor display lit up, telling of depleted power:

 _CHARGE: 85 PERCENT_

Before Jo could fire again, Ian's burst cut into the one in the middle, and he was history.

The third went down as a loud, heavy sound pierced the darkness. That was certainly Erik.

As the power depleted so much at once, the rifles the guards were using had to be heavy calibre, possibly FN-SCARs in 7.62. She couldn't keep getting hit indefinitely. The macabre thought was, that any time the armor indicator lit up, you would already have been dead, but Jo had learned to push the thought aside a long ago. You used whatever advantage you could get.

But now the war started for real; still keeping in heat mode Jo saw another group of three advancing carefully and keeping themselves spread apart. Further away from the right, at least two more advanced and tried to circle behind them.

For a moment she and Ian fired back to back as the enemies closed in. Kim was crouched low, aiming at enemies approaching from the other flank, firing single shots. Erik resumed firing, practically each shot taking down another guard. Now Jo understood there were even more of them closing in than she had initially noticed. Ian had talked of being rusty, and she was of course too. Jo was now just very thankful of Erik's assist.

Silence descended at last, and they could advance. Jo noticed 70% armor power left, which was nothing to write home about, but to be honest, better than she expected.

...

Gunther had seen the missiles launching, and two of the towers getting raked by helicopter gunfire. So this was the assault REX had promised, and which he hoped to succeed, though the odds weren't great so far.

Gunther still thought back to the assignment that had never begun. In light of the insanity REX had displayed, it was possible Sebastian had been framed somehow. In that case his manhunt would have been chasing completely the wrong person, an innocent! At least the motorcyclist and Kim before had displayed active aggression. But especially as Kim might now be coming back here, they could be pawns in the games coordinated by REX too. Damn, now he felt stupid for remembering, how in the forest his overriding thought process had been the urge to kill her to avenge Rutger, and cover it up afterward, though she had been unarmed. No way REX could have know that ... or could it?

Now that the helicopter had been forced to emergency land, the insanity had yet stepped up, as REX had given him an ultimatum to stay inside the top floor office, or it would fire the laser again on the disabled chopper, killing any inside or near. So with little options, he would obey for now.

Janos entered the office. Gunther forced himself to be calm and not give away which side he truly rooted for.

"The men are putting up a good show. Sometimes, war is like music," Janos mused.

The trouble was, Gunther could not disagree completely. He was also the kind of man who lived for conflict. And the men of course had the right to defend their lives and their installation. But still, the root cause for fighting or defending had to be sane, and this wasn't. Gunther wondered how many of the men on the ground even knew or cared for what REX was conducting? Possibly they had just been told to guard this place, and were paid well.

"The roof laser is Grieg Industries technology. Rather impressive. As the avatar, you could take control of it too."

Unhinged troop commander small talk. Which Gunther had had enough of. But he couldn't exactly tell Janos that.

...

With each encounter they got closer to the pyramid. Erik's shots still rang out, thinning the opposition whenever he could. But the armor was now over halfway depleted. Jo, Ian and Kim were at the wide stairs leading up to the pyramid entrance, crouched into cover. The bottom of the pyramid appeared empty, and it made sense, as anyone inside would be clearly visible through the glass and the bright lighting. But more could still appear from around it; they hadn't exactly counted.

For a minute, nothing happened. No more guards in sight. But they had to be waiting somewhere.

"We'll have to get on the move," Ian said. "Just up the stairs very slowly."

It was exactly true, by waiting they would not get at the REX evidence.

So they began the slow climb. At this close it became hard to use the heat vision, as the pyramid's lighting gave constant background heat, and enemies would be coming from its general direction. The sunglasses could also zoom, though only digitally, so it would be unclear to a degree. Jo zoomed in, scanning around the pyramid.

"They're coming," Kim hissed. She had noticed them first, but now Jo saw them too. A lot of them, possibly all the remaining guards. If that was true, Jo was glad that none had circled back to the chopper to attack it, as everyone they'd left there had no Agent coat protection. But it also meant this was going to be war in the proper sense. With not that much margin for relying just on luck and the armor's protection.

Jo slammed a fresh magazine in.

A concerto of automatic gunfire began. Erik's Barrett joined it once more, and Jo made sure to not pop up for any more time than was necessary. Still, a lucky round could find its way in, and headshots were the worst risk. The armor would deflect a bullet aimed at the head, if it was close enough to the electromagnets' range. But it was still relying on luck.

 _CHARGE: 35 PERCENT_

Jo ducked back into cover, while Ian fired one magazine on full auto, then changed quickly. Kim was keeping low too, then popping up for single shots, which eliminated at least two more.

...

Finally silence fell completely. No more enemy gunfire, but Jo had exactly 10% left.

"Mine's 15," Ian said.

Jo knew he expected her to be extra careful now on. Of course she would be; for just a moment Jo flashed back to their discussions inside the interrogation room and even later in the helicopter. It was a careful balance, whether caring deeply for someone would give you the edge when you fought together, or whether it would hinder or even paralyze you. For the most part Jo thought they had managed well. What Jo found she would do was to simply shut that part off to a degree, to think Ian was just a very good team mate. Sometimes, she'd feel bad about it afterward, but maybe it was the closest she'd get to Ian's dissociation. Which he had said he no longer could do.

Suddenly one more gunshot echoed long in the night, and Jo heard a pained shout from behind. It was Kim!

Before Jo would confirm or deny the existence of a serious wound, she looked for the shooter, cycling the vision modes quickly.

"On the roof," she hissed to Ian. But before they could open up, a second equally powerful shot rang out and Jo knew Erik had taken vengeance. The enemy sniper fell down onto the stairs' concrete with a dull thud.

Kim had been thrown against the stairs, but there appeared to be no wound. The armor power had depleted completely though and the vest had taken in the heavy-calibre round, partially flattening it. But it likely wouldn't take another.

"Escort her back to the chopper. I'll advance inside," Ian said.

Jo knew what he was thinking, that he wanted her out of the harm's way so that he could concentrate on cleaning up the pyramid interior. A part of her wanted to protest, but then, leaving Kim on her own did not sit well either. And Ian had the most armor power left.

"Be careful. You could wait until I come back."

"I will retreat if I encounter overwhelming opposition," Ian replied.

With 15% left, it would need to be a hell of a quick decision. But Jo had to trust Ian would manage. He had survived worse.

...

Ian knew it was not an ideal situation. But there was the mystery of REX to crack, and he feared it could even be wiping off all the evidence as they had spoken.

But first, he had to get inside. He saw that beyond the glass doors the interior appeared empty. There was a standard keypad lock next to them.

Landing with the helicopter far away from any power or network wires, they hadn't so far established any kind of cyberattack-angle; all warfare had been conventional. So the keypad also needed to be cracked conventionally. As a last resort, Ian could just shoot it.

He remembered the 2:18 timestamp, so first he just typed

 _218_

No luck. The keypad even shocked him and a text lit up: 2 attempts. Fuck. He shouldn't get too wasteful, but try only the most likely combinations.

 _666_

Again, a shock and now only 1 attempt left.

His earpiece crackled to life. "Eve here! Try to press the keys for the letters REX. It's at least what I would do."

"What are those?"

"Wait … let me google."

That meant Eve had her mobile on again. Hopefully there was internet access on this island, and REX wouldn't detect her just because of having the device on.

Suddenly an odd memory came to him. Dissociative training, where the trainees had memorized keypads for hours. The letter positions came back to him, and he pressed

 _739_

Ian expected a third shock and the keypad locking itself out completely, but instead a reassuring green light came on for a second. There was a soft whir of an electric motor and the entrance doors began to open automatically. It was as if REX was inviting him in.

Going in alone. 15% armor power. Ian didn't want to consider the possibility that Jo would be returning home without him. Of course, he knew her to be strong enough for that if it had to happen, but he'd never want that scenario to happen again if he just had any say in it. So. Take this very careful.

Before going in, Ian changed a fresh magazine in. One more left.


	27. Chapter 27 - Any Means Necessary

**Chapter 27 – Any Means Necessary**

Ian crept through the empty ground floor, the largest one. The stairs leading to the second level were on the left side.

Left Hand Path.

It could be reassuring, or not. It could mean that whoever designed or built this place was a Satanist. Though, wasn't Erik too?

Focus! This was not time for humour. Enemies could still be lurking ahead.

Ian scanned left and right and above with the rifle, but nothing came up. He even switched on heat vision, but no-one behind the walls either. He began to climb the stairs, very slowly.

Suddenly he heard a strange half-artificial voice come to life. Was it REX?

"Poor Ian. If you knew how your life has been bet on!"

Ian had no fucking idea what this was about. But clearly it was an attempt to destabilize him. He decided to focus doubly, still scanning to each direction.

Suddenly Ian became aware of a shout emerging from the side. From the shadow of a second floor corridor, a burly tall man approached, coming straight at him with a nasty-looking weapon with a cylinder magazine.

An automatic shotgun. From so close, it would tear him into shreds even with the first hit. The vest could not hold.

Ian leaped to the side just as the man fired. It became like a bizarre dance of death where both circled the other, trying to avoid being hit while still trying to hit the other. Clouds of buckshot filled the air with thunderous noise, and Ian fired back. He felt sweat running down his forehead, going into his eyes behind the sunglasses. Even one wrong turn, and it'd be all over.

They circled closer.

The man went dry. The cylinder probably held only 10 cartridges.

Ian rushed him, the rifle up. He pressed the trigger, hoping for an easy kill, but his M4 clicked dry too. Both their weapons and their bodies collided in the air. The weapons clattered away, and a second later the large man was already wrestling him, pinning him to the ground.

And Ian knew he had no strength to match this man; he would be overpowered. This probably was the commander of the entire force here, and the last encounter apart from REX itself, but it was possible Ian's road would end here.

The voice came back.

"Like always, not enough power. You fall under the blade –"

The man had a large combat knife out, and tried to find an angle to slash or stab Ian. Ian knew his reactions weren't the sharpest after so long out of fighting, and he wouldn't have the strength to twist the knife away.

But he still had the power of surprise.

Ian headbutted the man, and it was enough for him to lose the grip from the knife for a moment. Ian rolled to the side, ending up momentarily on top, but then became pinned down again. At least the knife was now out of reach.

"You find it harder to breathe –"

Next the man indeed started strangling Ian, almost if either REX was following his moves precisely, or he was actually under its control. Ian tried to find some angle of attack, even kicking him to the crotch, but despite his size he was too nimble in his movements.

Ian couldn't get air at all now. Soon, his vision would begin to dim. But somewhere far away, he became aware of hurried footsteps.

"Ian! Either lift him upward or get out of the way!"

Jo's voice. She had returned. And she had possibly just made this possible. Ignoring the lack of air, Ian gathered his strength for one sudden move and grabbed the attacker's neck with both hands in turn, forcing his head upward.

"More!"

Ian thought his muscles were stretching to the maximum, there was nowhere further to go. He would possibly dislocate something. Finally he broke his right hand free, leaned left in the death grip so his right hand would have just a bit of room to travel, and hit the burly man's jaw as hard as he could.

He was thrown upward, and in the next instant the rifle shot rang out.

The man fell on top of Ian with a hole in his forehead. Ian rolled clear somewhat in disgust, then turned to look at Jo who was now at the second level as well, rifle at hand.

"You came for me. And just in time."

Jo smiled just a bit, but in a way that told this was still pure war. And Ian certainly agreed. He changed a fresh magazine in, the last one. They advanced together now.

...

Gunther thought that it was a new development for REX to be talking directly through the pyramid's speaker system, to try to taunt the intruder. The assaulting team, and especially the two now climbing up, had managed admirably. And Janos was down for good.

Still, the ultimatum held, and he could do little.

...

As they were close to the second set of stairs, Ian sensed it was becoming brighter. The pyramid roof started to pulse with light again. Was it going to launch another beam at the fallen helicopter with the rest inside? Or fry him and Jo here?

Fuck! There was just no telling.

"It's coming from the top floor!" Jo shouted. "So if we want to stop it, we need to be there!"

They ran the rest of the way to the stairs, until they finally found themselves at the third and smallest floor.

There was a glass-walled office, with an expensive-looking wooden desk, a workstation, and a solemn- or even anguished- but also military-looking man standing, gaze focused at them. Since he was unarmed, Ian and Jo entered. The room didn't look like a death trap. There couldn't be hidden spikes in the triangular glass ceiling.

Before the man could explain who he was, REX spoke first.

"Yes. He is my avatar. You can't kill him if you want to access the control room. Only his handprint will open the biometric lock. But if you don't kill him, the roof laser will fully power up and hit your crashed helicopter, frying your friends inside, in a matter of seconds. This is also an event whose outcome is being bet on."

They needed to get at REX for the evidence. But they also needed Sebastian alive to benefit of it in the slightest.

The unfair choice was so sudden, that Ian suddenly thought of dissociating, and even more extremely, right up to the concept of time slowing down, or Agent-Time. He thought this to have been lost for him. In this slowed-down version of time, he searched for the third option, that would allow both goals.

Judging from the pained look, the man was probably acting as the avatar against his will. And from this followed, that he shouldn't be killed.

But what was the third option? How would the system judge whether the man was alive or dead? Could he be both at the same time, and what would happen then?

Ian felt these thoughts fruitless, and even the Agent-Time seemed to be dissipating. It probably worked through the release of excess brain chemicals - Ian just happened to be a freak of nature while the rest could go only halfway in that regard - but the effect could never hold forever. His time perception would return to normal, and the laser would soon fully power and destroy the helicopter. And their friends. And Sebastian.

Everything might have been in vain.

The man spoke, the slowed down version of time causing his voice to pitch down demoniacally.

"I – have – seen – horrible – things. Do – not – perform – searches – on – the – console! Now – give – me – your – gun – so – I – may – save – your – friends – then – crash – through – the – entrance – just – as – I – die!"

Was that the third option? Ian didn't want the man to sacrifice himself unnecessarily. Though neither did he want for Kim, Erik, Hammerfist, Sebastian and Eve to die. This man seemed to be resigned to his fate. Maybe he had indeed seen so horrible things that he had lost his will to live. Then, Ian would have to honor his wish, even if reluctantly.

One last doubt crossed his mind. Once inside the control room, would they be able to get out without the handprint?

The Agent-Time was almost gone. The glow of the laser on the roof was now painfully bright. It would potentially fire in seconds.

Ian tossed the M4 toward the man, and for just an instant it appeared to rotate in slow motion, until time sped back up and the man caught it and slammed it against his chin and pulled the trigger, other hand on the handprint reader just as Ian was about to tackle the control room door next to him.

From up close the gunshot was thunderously loud.

The handprint reader blinked green just as the bullet went through the "avatar's" brain, and the glow on the roof extinguished in an instant. And within the same fraction of a second Ian slammed through the door into the subdued blue light of the control room.

The door! Can't let it close now. Hold or prop it open somehow! Ian thought.

It would not open a second time.

It had a heavy electric motor mechanism, and Ian hung from the door with all of his remaining strength, pressing his feet against the floor, as it began to close. The intended mode of action would have been to just walk through and let it close, but Ian didn't want to risk getting trapped.

Jo started pushing the wooden desk, until it was wedged into the doorway. The electric motor protested, still trying to close it, until it finally gave up.

...

For some moments it became extremely quiet. Only the low hum of the control room, and their quiet footsteps as they entered, rifles still held up. Inside there was a mass of rack servers, and an ordinary workstation connected to two large-resolution displays side by side.

It looked rather off-the-shelf. This was the REX? Then Ian remembered. It was distributed, so it was potentially everywhere.

And just then the voice of REX came back.

"You have been chosen as the next avatar of REX."

Ian felt his blood go cold. His feet froze in place, while he swept the rifle to the sides. What server he could destroy to make the voice just shut down?

Damn. Control yourself. We need the evidence, Ian thought.

"To resolve ambiguity, Joan Alder has been chosen."

"What?" Jo's mouth was left open.

No! Fucker! Why her? You aren't going to do that! I swear I will shut you down!

To be honest, Ian had no idea how, and felt creeping fear and a sense of injustice. To get this far, only to be placed under an AI's control again! Of all the people in the world Jo deserved it exactly the least!

"I know of your father in a certain hospital. He is currently under watch of two guards, as he will potentially be accused of a firearm offense. This and other knowledge will convince you that you will work as the avatar according to my instructions. You will be compensated well."

"This must be a very sick joke," Jo muttered, getting angry now.

Well, Ian was glad she was taking this better than he was. Now he regained his senses enough to shout to the Agent comms at last.

"Hey! We have a situation here! Eve, can you come over! Here's a fucking AI that wants Jo as its avatar and we're not going to let that happen! Pyramid third floor, the door should be open!"

Ian considered with more rationality now. That threat was serious, at least if Ian thought back to the exploding Grieg building. Would it have some gang members to do its bidding? He remembered what Eve had told of the mysterious behaviour change of the Fusillados. Maybe it was REX commanding the gang, then once it had grown too big, it had instructed some others to do a coordinated attack, and the wealth had been redistributed, or even been taken for REX's further development. Fuck. All options seemed evil.

Ian just hoped for Eve to arrive soon.

It was an eternally long two minutes until she did.


	28. Chapter 28 - Damn the Machine

**Chapter 28 – Damn the Machine**

For even longer minutes, Eve tapped on the keyboard, editing various shell scripts and initiating SSH connections to other systems, until she was satisfied.

"Is it disabled now?" Ian asked.

"I haven't quite seen anything like this before. It's a huge, self-updating, self-improving system. But yeah, it shouldn't be initiating connections to anywhere outside now. We still have read-only access, and need to get the evidence Sebastian is looking for. The MSA network hack. I think I will just copy everything I can, and then make it wipe itself out for good. There's actually a function coded in just for that. And in a distributed manner, meaning it's gone from everywhere. I need to go back once more to get Sebastian and a large enough portable hard disk. Meanwhile you shouldn't touch it, really."

"What is its purpose? The man talked of strange things. That we shouldn't do searches on the console. What happens if we do?" Ian asked.

"It's sort of a darknet edgelord thing. The original coder has left his signature: Nathan."

"Nathan from Grieg Industries? The sysadmin?" Jo asked.

"Yes."

"But what does it do?" Ian asked.

"It's a competition / betting / calculation system. Originally meant to be as generic as possible, but it has kind of mutated to something nasty, partially just by itself and partially by the coders who continued to work on it. And of course from the data the users have entered. It has supposedly achieved almost sentience. And everything for the "lulz." Wait. If I find an audio file, REX can tell by itself. Don't be scared, it's not in active mode any more."

Eve clicked with the mouse a few times, and an audio file began to play, in the same voice as they had heard before. "This was supposedly the introduction for the latest avatar, Gunther Jäger, so he has to be the one who shot himself just outside."

"The purpose of REX is to oversee, organize and balance competitions and the accompanying darknet betting service for "lulz." What is currently determined as "lulz" is decided both by its internal algorithms, as well as voting by eligible audience members. Typically, the competitions are to happen between government agencies, paramilitary organizations, companies, or organized gangs or crime families. Sometimes even individuals. Typically access to high-tech weaponry has been determined as the most reliable source of "lulz," but other kinds of competitions have also been held, such as hacking, making the most money within a time limit, or completing other tasks within time limits or according to instructions. Often the contestants don't know they are competing. Currently, as weapon-based competition still remains most popular due to the high shock value and high stakes, you are predicted to be a most suitable and long-lived candidate for the avatar, as you possess direct military experience."

"Paramilitary organizations? High-tech weaponry? That's familiar … Grieg was trying to keep SCEPTRE and Agents balanced, like it was some competition," Ian said.

Jo just looked rather uneasy, not saying anything.

Eve made to leave. "I'll be back with Sebastian. Like I said, don't touch anything."

The system was dormant now. What risk was there, except seeing things you wouldn't want to see? Ian wanted to query something light-hearted. Surely the system couldn't know of the trip they'd taken? He typed into the search field:

 _FORD KA TRIP IAN JO_

Just at the moment he pressed enter Ian realized his mistake. He had revealed the connection of their fake identities to their real ones! But no. The system was read-only.

Instantly text lit up on the monitors, displaying hypothetical outcomes and voting results, with the actual outcome circled.

 _EVENT: GUESS OUTCOME: FORD KA TRIP SPRING - SUMMER 2013_  
 _TAGS: AGENTS OF METAL, BATTLE COUPLE, ROAD TRIP, HATCHBACK, UGLY CAR_

 _FATAL ACCIDENT / BOTH DIE - 16%_  
 _FATAL ACCIDENT / IAN DIES - 20%_  
 _FATAL ACCIDENT / JO DIES - 15%_  
 _IAN & JO BREAK UP - 18%_  
 _IAN & JO STAY TOGETHER - (23%)_  
 _OTHER - 8%_

For a moment, they both stood with their mouths open. So this was darknet betting, guessing outcomes … of people's lives? And using tropes in the search tags? And knowing they were Agents?

"This is horrible!" Jo exclaimed after doing a few more searches. "So Nathan started this? For what? Is this "lulz"? I'm not laughing at all!"

"The system's probably crowd-sourced. It's darknet, so there can be quite sick individuals involved. Could even have been Nathan who entered just this. But whenever you search for yourself, it feels just like everything's about you. Doesn't mean like that whole REX gambling or whatever it was, was focused on just us. We're just two contestants and the road trip's just one event in a huge pool I guess," Ian said. "Not that I like it either. At all."

To be honest, Ian could think of much worse bets, like whether he'd manage to dig the failsafe device from Jo's head in time at the first anti-cosmic pyramid. Fuck! Or something more private, like whether Jo would drink herself to passing out at Stahlhölle and whether he would manage to finish singing Master of the Wind to her or not! Double fuck! But of course they couldn't have eyes everywhere, keeping track of possible road accidents was sort of easier. But to think that the darknet had seen through their fake identities, was not exactly comforting.

Maybe in the end, it was no use to imagine such things. Kind of nice to know though that the darknet edgelords had rooted for them to stay together. But was that similar to Eve's retweets? How she tried to put out material that would get reactions? Fuck. People were just too obsessed with strangers.

Still, the idea of some other queries was morbidly fascinating, so as Jo was looking away, Ian typed a quick search and another kind of result came up.

 _CONFIRMED KILLS / IAN_

 _NOVEMBER 2012 - 8_  
 _DECEMBER 2012 - 31_  
 _MARCH 2013 - 25_  
 _NOVEMBER 2013 - ?_

The entry for today had not been created yet. So it looked like people still had to enter the stats, not REX directly. He wondered of the question mark. The system obviously knew something ... Then he quickly hid the whole result. He didn't feel like he wanted to return to it, or to anything else found here.

Jo had a more extreme opinion as she turned back.

"I'd want back to the moment where I had never seen this."

Fortunately Ian knew there was a solution, as long as they didn't take too long here.

"The needle guns. Short-term memory loss. We fire them at the same time. Then we wake up and it's like we never were in this room. The mission's finished; Eve and Sebastian will copy the important evidence and then shut down and wipe the whole shit," Ian said.

"It's kind of good they wrote in that possibility. And if it was started by Nathan … quite an irony to have Hermann chosen as one of the avatars then. Him … and the whole Grieg Industries. It's a tragedy. Right now I'm just glad it will be gone."

Jo paused, thinking.

"So do we both shoot each other, or ourselves?"

"It'd say the latter. It's just … doing anything to harm you would be off-limits."

Jo smiled a bit sadly. Ian was quite sure what she thought back to. If she remembered.

"OK then," she said finally.

Ian thought that no weapon was ever completely risk-free, but that was the risk they had to take to begin the rest of their life without this unwanted information.

Before he got the needle gun out, Ian thought of one final thing. The phrase that had led them to start this quest in the first place.

 _REX who sits on the THRONE with the SCEPTRE at hand_

It was possible it had been deliberate. As there had been no traces of SCEPTRE or THRONE any more. The only thing REX had wanted was the Agent coats inside the MSA facility. It probably played multiple overlapping plots to see which would come true and produce its desired outcome. But Ian was too tired to think of that now.

He was ready for the black oblivion.

...

Eve came in to the REX control room with Sebastian to begin the final copy and the distributed purge sequence. She saw the two unconscious Agents on the floor, and shook her head. Obviously they had made a mistake, done exactly what she had told them not to, but had found a way to fix it.

Now she needed to think of how to eventually explain it to them in a plausible manner. Damn. It didn't sit well with her. The whole scene was also kind of cute, how they were wrapped in each other's Agent coats.

 _#  
_

No. Don't go there. Too much was still at stake.

Her entire credibility as a hacker. The length of the sentence. The length of the internet ban.

It would be unfair, but it was possible shutting down REX had been her last hack. Since the wipe function was built in, she couldn't take credit entirely. But still, it was one of her best.


	29. Chapter 29 - Journeyman

**Chapter 29 - Journeyman**

Under watch of a three-member MSA custody and security detail, Ian and Jo walked along the hospital corridor.

Sebastian was still hard at work compiling the evidence. Ian had been passed out at the time, but he understood that it had been quite hairy for him at first when MSA forces had first landed on the island. They had him and the entire group at gunpoint, until becoming convinced enough by the evidence.

To be honest, Ian was glad to have skipped all that to the best part, to wake up to Jo kissing him aboard the MSA chopper, the agents already on much friendlier terms.

Apparently a gas trap had went off in the REX control room. Ian was glad it had been non-lethal. Though couldn't they have suffocated anyway? Well, Eve had vented it away and shut down the REX system, but she didn't want to talk of it much, appearing a bit uneasy.

Ian could think of two reasons, either she was uneasy from thinking of what if she had arrived just a bit later and they would already be dead. The second Ian could only imagine as a list of hashtags.

 _#BattleCouple #SleepCute #JustHackerThings_

Whichever it was, didn't matter really. Right now Eve was understandably anxious of what would happen because of her hacking into the rendition facility. Going by the book, the consequences could be extremely severe. She was just in the same boat as all of them.

Ian thought that if Sebastian didn't believe that the REX evidence could let them off the hook, he wouldn't be working that hard. MSA could just have turned them over ... to what? The feds probably. Or they'd have received transport to some secret rendition hellhole. That they had been allowed this visit was also a good sign, and Ian had to admit feeling grateful. Still, Jo's treatment couldn't be easily forgiven either.

They entered Russ's room. He was on his bed, partially upright. Ian just stood back as Jo went to hug him.

"One does not simply get rid of me that easily," Russ said. They laughed a bit.

Ian thought Russ probably had a boring time and was recovering well if he had time to update his knowledge of memes.

Ian also knew his eyes were getting a bit wet. Just like they should. Jo being happy was always the best. He still remembered that moment when he had lost the ability to feel for her, and wanted it to never repeat.

...

Their quarters while waiting for the hearing were a bit primitive, with little to do. But Erik understood it was to prevent escape attempts or to not allow anything that could be used as a weapon. Therefore no pool table, or no cards, or ...

He thought to what Kim had once said. That when she bought the bass guitar, she had initially thought of just how it could be used to bash a head in. That was extreme. Perhaps even more extreme than he himself was. Of course sometimes Erik had considered the creative uses of drumsticks.

At least there were books. Cheap paperback thrillers mostly. So with little else to do, Erik had read through several of them, when not spending time in Kim's company.

Today, as the night was finally drawing close, he finally got a good chance to talk with Jo. Mostly, Erik had felt like shit if he thought back to the interrogation. And what Jo had then endured as a result.

"So, you thought you were talking to Kim and you revealed that I'd been with you on the raid?" Jo asked.

"Precisely."

"You couldn't know it wasn't real. Don't feel bad for it. Things actually turned out fine. I could feel bad too, from kind of taking it for granted that you'd escape and survive, while I hid at the studio."

"But that's Agent secrets. If you're an Agent, there's some things you have to keep even from your lady."

Jo fell silent for some seconds, and Erik thought she would latch on to his choice of word. That Jo was going to say something funny. Well, he could take it.

"Actually you can't live that way. Or at least I couldn't. We actually discussed that with Ian back at Stahlhölle. These adventures we've lived through, it's too much if you also have to keep things secret from those close to you, in addition to just surviving in the first place. At least now you can consider Kim an Agent too. Like part of the same family."

Hm. Nothing about the word. But Erik thought Jo's words made sense. Everyone had to find their own ways of coping. Like how Kim thought she was inside an action movie. That and Jo's point about family made Erik think ...

"Hey. With nothing to do, I read through this trilogy. It's about a band of soldiers who are also almost like a family. There's this hero, who always does crazy things to survive. I think that's like Ian. Though Ian isn't often an actual team leader like him, and he has a grappling hook thing he always uses to get out of trouble. But then, this hero doesn't compose and play and sing like he does. There's of course the hero's girl. Which I suppose would be compared to you. Though I think you beat her in every way, like she doesn't play either, and you have longer hair and drive faster and take care of both yourself and -"

Jo was already laughing in disbelief, so Erik found it unnecessary to continue. Making sure Jo was in good spirits (though it could still turn out they would get a raw deal) and there was no bad blood between them, so mission accomplished.

Though Erik could have continued to other stats, which his side usually won too.

For instance, the heroes in those books never had extreme meetings with the deadwhite throne after drinking. That was Ian's personal term, which had caught on.


	30. Chapter 30 - Master of the Wind

**Chapter 30 – Master of the Wind**

The group of Agents plus Kim, Eve and Sebastian had congregated for a classified hearing in a secluded meeting room of the MSA headquarters. An armed guard was posted at the door, and two more waited outside. The six were still under custody and constant guard.

Sebastian's gaze was focused on Kim now. She still had the altered hair colour.

"Would you affirm, that the Smart Fortwo lost control accidentally and happened to hit the helicopter?"

"Exactly that."

"You are likely to be charged with reckless driving, since you drove over the limit for an extended time and cut across lanes. That we can do nothing with, since that's a matter with the local police, and there are witnesses. Expect fines and suspension of driving license. Possibly a suspended sentence in the worst case."

Kim's expression did not change. Sebastian clicked the laptop touchpad, apparently to access a different set of files.

"Next. Going through the recordings from all the Area 51 sub-levels, we uncovered this. It had been erased from the main archives afterwards, but we found a copy that had been overlooked."

Sebastian pressed a key and a video began to play on the overhead projector. Due to the enlargement, it looked extremely low-resolution at first. But it was clear enough. Ian saw technicians at work around a large black object. But it wasn't an IAC. Not a flying vehicle at all, as it had large wheels.

He felt suddenly cold as he understood what it was.

SCEPTRE's – or THRONE's – large tank that had chased them on Nibiru, and unloaded the smaller vehicles from within.

"Anyone. Is this vehicle familiar to you?" Sebastian asked.

"Yes," Ian said breathlessly. "That's what hunted us on the planet."

His mind raced. Where was this leading? If the technicians had actually installed a propulsion system of some sort, that explained how the tank could have reached the Ka as they were tumbling through the atmosphere. But could it also mean Jo and Erik getting absolved? What they'd done was still murder of Air Force personnel.

"From evidence recovered with the help of this young lady" – Sebastian turned to Eve next to him – "It appears that the acting commander of Area 51 at the time, who has committed suicide since then, was competing under the influence of REX, and made some alliances he shouldn't have. Same for FEMA. And from this it can be construed that the Agent / Shadow Unit joint assault was actually in service of the country, against traitors of the highest degree, and you all deserve apologies. Of course, tough luck –"

Sebastian froze in mid-sentence.

Ian looked to his side to see Jo's face drain of colour. He was just in time to catch her before she fell of the chair. Just a moment later, she was already smiling at him in relief.

"I'm OK," Jo said. "Just surprised."

Ian heard a sudden giggle. He froze too, Jo still partially in his lap.

Eve was looking at them from across the table. "I think you want to finish that. JustAgentThings."

This was beyond stupid. Didn't Eve know this was a serious MSA hearing, that would decide the course of the rest of their life?

Sebastian looked on in puzzlement, unable to continue. Of course, if what he was saying would hold, it would be an unimaginable relief. But Ian was also embarrassed, potentially more than ever before. He saw Erik could barely hold his laughter, like he was expecting something to happen too.

Fuck you too! But all right. It couldn't be anything ordinary, but something extreme.

Ian sort of already knew what. Ever since Stahlhölle, he had wanted a retry. But no good opportunity had materialized so far. He had just expected it to happen in private, like on the couch of Antisound Studio. But right here it would have an especial meaning, due to everything Jo had endured.

"What's she talking about?" Jo asked.

Ian thought of a quick way to explain. He remembered something she had said not that long ago –

"Remember what you once said to me about doing things that are a bit much?"

Jo blushed, like she was getting embarrassed too. But she also looked like she didn't want to move anywhere from where she was, despite the MSA officials looking on.

She nodded.

For a moment Ian still considered whether he was making a mistake. If Sebastian would withdraw his words later, it would be unbearable to think about this afterward. But he just had to take that chance.

"Do we have a few minutes to spare?" Ian asked.

"This hearing will go on until all matters at hand have been fully processed. We're not on a timetable." The raw voice sounded like the MSA agent was forcing himself to be businesslike, and overcompensated.

Ian took one last look at Eve. And Erik. Both were still suppressing laughter. Meanwhile Kim just looked on, face unmoving. Hammerfist looked like he would perhaps start to smile, or then not. Ian just wanted to block everything else out. Like dissociating, but not quite. More like entering their own happy-place within the room.

"You're ready? Come just a little closer."

Jo leaned back to Ian's lap, and he lifted her just enough so that they would clear the height of the long table. Finally he climbed to sit on top of it, holding Jo very close. He sensed some kind of reaction from the room, but he certainly wasn't going to look at them. Not even at Erik. He only concentrated on Jo, how she felt against him, and on finding the right pitch to start from, so that he wouldn't run out of range as the melody went lower. He certainly wasn't going to sing in Eric Adams' pitch.

"In the silence –" he began quietly, close to Jo's ear.

During each longer pause, he'd plant a kiss somewhere on her head.

This would hopefully be something that she would return to even years afterward. Judging from the tears that had to be from joy, and how she just didn't stop smiling, she would.

Also, Ian hoped it would be the longest three minutes in Sebastian's life.

...

Eve was certainly amused. And touched, if she thought of the whole sequence of events.

She had felt trepidation throughout the MSA hearing, sure that she would be banned from internet access for the rest of her life, and put behind bars for long if not for life. As she understood either was not going to happen, her spirits lifted.

And this was something completely else. Now she only knew she needed to tweet. More #JustHackerThings, and right now. But how? Only Sebastian possibly had net access on his laptop, and even it possibly was only on an internal network.

"Could I access my Twitter account from your machine? Are ports 80 and 443 open?" she asked.

"Why?"

"I want to provide live coverage of this moment."

"This is a classified hearing." Sebastian's voice was again monotone and unyielding.

"If I run everything by your first? You can even type out what I say."

Sebastian shook his head. "Fine. But no hacks. Remember that there are guards outside. Go out of line, and you'll certainly do time for long. And by the way, we know of your "insurance" software. I will require you to permanently deactivate it before you're let go."

Eve felt her spirits lift. "If you let me tweet, I'll do that the next thing. I can even give you the source code."

So, under Sebastian's watchful eye, she began to write.

 _Having fun at classified court session #NDA #Illuminati #AboveTopSecret #JustHackerThings_

Sebastian looked angry at first, and some seconds passed. Finally he nodded and spoke. "It reveals nothing. This is technically not a court session. Go ahead."

The next tweet went faster.

 _Trained killer proving he's #SuperInLove #JustAgentThings #JustHackerThings_

"What's the artist?" Eve asked quickly. She had no idea.

Erik replied. "Manowar."

 _Trained killer singing #Manowar to #DamselInDistress #JustAgentThings #JustHackerThings_

As the song progressed to the second verse, she caught a meaning the rest probably didn't. They thought they were just watching a show of affection.

 _Trained killer protesting use of #EnhancedMethods #JustAgentThings #JustHackerThings_

Again Sebastian took pause, looking irritated. Finally he pressed the enter key himself.


	31. Chapter 31 - Doom Over the World

To hear the melody that Kim invents roughly one year ahead of time (story takes place in Spring 2014), it's the first line in "From the Pinnacle to the Pit"  
-ArmageddonClan

...

 **Chapter 31 – Doom Over the World / From the Pinnacle to the Pit**

 _Three days later_

"You wouldn't believe  
What I have seen!"

Erik's cabin reverberated with distorted bass and drums played at an extremely high volume considering the small space. A recently bought cheap 400W PA set did its best to match the level. Kim sung the diabolic melody in unison with the bass line. She knew she had not much vocal skill to speak of, as the voice was trebly and hollow, but she thought the conviction made up for it. In the very least she was proud of the melody she had invented herself.

The lyrics could refer to a hundred things, but mostly, it was inspired by the final raid on the REX headquarters. Though one certainly could not refer to high-tech weapons or rogue AI's directly in doom metal, that would have been irrevocably false.

For a few bars, the mostly-improvised song settled on a driving shuffle, typical in old school doom and stoner rock. Kim headbanged widely, the bass following the motion. It felt a bit hypnotic, especially since both of them had drunk a few beers. Right now Erik almost appeared to have trouble keeping the simple beat together. Kim thought of whether she was distracting him. Possibly yes.

"Look out!"

The classic doom shout came out surprisingly aggressive, almost as if Kim was directly channelling Albert Witchfinder. Erik reacted fast, accentuating the break with kick + cymbal hits.

Then the beat continued, and Kim began to play a meandering solo. Again, authentic conviction overcame actual skill; she wasn't fully satisfied and knew she needed to practice more. She had a wah pedal wired after the distortion, which fit rather well, though it also was noisy as hell.

Kim thought that this project could even reach some success beyond jamming just for fun. With (a lot more) practice, Kim thought they could establish themselves as a duo steamroller of pure fucking doom. To continue and improve on what had been left incomplete with Necrotic Dust's early demise. And Erik seemed just glad to supply the hellbattery.

Finally the song collapsed on itself, with the timing going irrecoverably out of control. Kim let a distorted bass power chord ring out, which began to feed back. Erik stood up, bashing the floor toms with what Kim thought to be near maximum strength, but not too much to break the skins. This could be the ritualistic end of a show.

Kim held the bass guitar by its neck as it still fed back. Then she finally turned the volume knob down. "Almost a song."

"Right."

A silence followed. Erik stood up and came over from behind the drum kit, and for some time they just stared at each other. But there was nothing uneasy about it. It was just the essence of doom. Finally Erik couldn't help smiling.

"You. Fucking valkyrie of doom."

Kim thought she felt a bit warm inside. It happened rarely, but to tell the truth, it felt good.

"Fucking hammer of doom," she replied. She didn't care if it was lame or not. Possibly it even wasn't. What else to call Erik, strong on his drum stool?

Then Erik touched her face, the line near her mouth. And before she could ponder if she would allow herself that, her heart skipped a beat. She knew it was ridiculous. Of course she could allow herself just what she pleased. That was the whole law. Especially after this fucking adventure they had lived through.

Kim actually thought there were a lot of things she could allow herself. And they wouldn't diminish her in any manner. Her strength and misanthropy were still there. She flashed back to Ian explaining to her that he too did what the fuck he pleased, and chuckled.

"What's funny?" Erik asked.

"Ian. He also lives by the Law, in his own way."

"All metalheads do."


	32. Chapter 32 - Dawn Over a New World

**Chapter 32 – Dawn Over a New World**

The sun was setting over Antisound Studio.

Apart from the wind, it was very quiet here now. Very much its own world. For the time being, it was just Ian and Jo staying here.

Ian almost could not believe how things had turned out. Also regarding Jo's father, who would not be charged (as the arrest had been MSA, and they could simply interpret things creatively) but needed still time to recover.

But sometimes, dreams would come true. To a degree you couldn't even hope for.

Now the pleasant operating odour of an old Marshall all-tube half stack floated in the air of the main recording room.

Jo had one of Russ's guitars out of its case, a seventies Les Paul in red sunburst. She played long, deliberate notes, some of them bent, utilizing the guitar's sustain to the maximum. The melody was in a minor scale, but despite that and the slow tempo, the overall feel was upbeat and defiant.

Ian sat and listened in concentration. The melody climbed higher and became more mellow, using the neck pickup at times for a more flute-like sound, until it settled down to a final A at the fourteenth fret of the G-string. The note rang for a long time, until it had turned to pure feedback. Finally Jo rolled the volume to zero, put the guitar down slowly, and joined him on the couch.

"That was for Russ, right?" Ian asked.

"Kind of easy to guess, isn't it?"

Ian himself felt a bit deflated after everything. He thought of the REX case. Just in a space of days there had been a mass of arrests all over the world, including several REX programmers and certain individuals supporting the project. Some of them had held formidable influence in the underworld. Nathan's burned body had been found from the ruins of the Grieg headquarters. There was no MSA involvement in the case at this point any more.

It likely was safe now to continue the band, even without any false identities or such. In the end it depended on whether Erik had time. Just a bit paranoid, Ian had checked his bank account, but it had not been mysteriously emptied so far, for instance. He liked to think that even Eve would be kind of watching over them now. And to tell the truth, no-one was ever fully safe. Like when crossing the street.

The only thing that needed changing were the lyrics. Ian didn't exactly feel the need to proclaim SCEPTRE's torture methods to the public now. They belonged too much to the past.

He also thought he would never again feel guilt from the path he had led Jo on … as it had ended right here.

"You've been quiet ... Anything wrong?" Jo asked as the silence extended.

There were a thousand ways Ian could have answered. Certainly he wanted to reassure that nothing was. As it was the honest truth. But he wanted to come up with something especial. He already had something in his mind, but wanted to make sure. It was almost like rewinding a tape. Sometimes the almost-worst memories could be the best in retrospect, when one found the humorous side. The trip took him back to Jo witnessing a certain Swedish guitar hero with extreme results. Not so the show itself, but what he had thought in the aftermath. The answer also required the best fictional "battle couple" Ian knew, who he had met in an extreme hangover.

"You feel a little drained after Quote and Curly reach the hidden golden ending."

Ian knew the answer startled Jo in some way. Like almost to the point of tears. How much of it was acting, he couldn't tell.

"I'll show you Curly."

Next thing he knew, Jo crashed into him with a bit more force than necessary and they both fell to the floor. There was a soft mat, so no actual damage done. Nevertheless Jo kept apologizing and kissing him almost endlessly and Ian couldn't stop laughing.

...

Sebastian had worked through the night to wrap up things, but now everything was coming to a close. He clicked the "Confirm" button for the last time and the whole case and the related sub-cases were marked closed. At last. He was not sure what he felt. Well, he was glad it was over, and he certainly preferred being officially back in the MSA to being prosecuted and convicted as a rogue operative. Despite of not exactly going by the book, especially during the finale.

But he couldn't say it felt like a victory. The MSA and other government agencies had been interfered with for almost two years, or possibly even more, by a rampant distributed AI. Especially since MSA was supposed to be the last line of defense against the worst possible threats on mankind, it was a burning shame. It was a surprise the AI had mostly limited itself to somewhat childish "gladiator" competitions and gambling. Supposedly that was the essence of "lulz." It had never executed any doomsday operations or plans just by itself, but it had put groups and individuals in competition, and they certainly had been creative. It could have caused much, much worse damage. Sebastian didn't even want to think about it.

Neither he did want to (at least right now) consider the possibility of a backup existing somewhere.

Because the REX threat had not been dimensional or extraterrestial in the end, wrapping up the case had required a lot of cooperation. That had left him drained; talking to the feds, or even worse, local law enforcement, felt beneath him.

It was perverse, this was where he felt home at, but in an ideal word the MSA would not need to exist at all. The cases it handled were often unthinkable.

...

Jo woke up at sunrise, while Ian still slept. They had fallen asleep on the recording room couch. Somehow she felt rather rested now, though it was still early. Only her muscles were a bit stiff from the awkward position.

She went outside to catch the first rays. The air was pleasantly cool; the wind had not picked up yet. As the sun appeared as a red-orange sphere from behind the clouds at horizon, Jo thought of what it meant to be free, without looking over your shoulder, for the first time for long. She couldn't deny it felt good.

She also considered the world. There certainly were places of ugliness and danger. And then this was directly from the opposite end: only peace and beauty, even if somewhat tarnished. Other places, like a mosh pit, could appear ugly at first, but weren't in fact.

To voluntarily enter a truly ugly and dangerous place, meant you had a death wish on you. But sometimes there was no choice. So the key was to do it only in that absolutely necessary case, and hope for the best. Jo hoped the whole REX business had indeed been the very last time.

That was all?

And yes, it was better if you weren't alone then. Jo certainly had not been, the list was almost too long to remember by now. But if she had to pick just one person, it was certainly one of the easiest tasks she could think of.

She went inside the main building to her bedroom. Just to check the laptop for any messages. They were still logged on to the Agent communication channels, though it had been silent in the last few days, apart from some jokes.

Her heart still jumped every time there was a new message. Like she expected something bad had come up again. Maybe they just needed to log off permanently.

Now there was a video attachment, just called "Untitled." There was no message text either.

She clicked it open. What? It was Ian and Kim. Jo heard the hacker, Eve, talking on the background.

As the video progressed, there were subtitles. Jo recognized the hashtag sign, but didn't care of Twitter much at all. It was odd to think though, that Eve had been putting these on the internet. Weren't they secrets?

But as the video progressed further and she understood what it was really about, and how it tied to the MSA closed hearing, she couldn't stop laughing. Then she felt very moved, to the point of having to close her eyes. And then she just shook her head and laughed more as it still went on, up to the last tweet.

The final part of the video was blank, but after a pause it showed the tweets from the hearing, which had also went live.

She thought one more time of dismounting Ian from the sofa. And knew that from that point on such events could be referred to only in one way.

 _#JustAgentThings_


End file.
